Queens of Vale
by Texan Red Rose
Summary: To secure peace, a marriage is arranged between the second born Princess of Atlas and the dreaded Dragon of Patch. While Weiss is skeptical about the exact nature of their union, Yang remains optimistic, and the two learn to navigate their life together with plenty of trials along the way. [Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU]
1. The Dragon of Patch

**Disclaimer:** Okay, so, this is based off a prompt from MakaSoul for Freezerburn. "Imagine your OTP in an arranged marriage, meeting for the first time on their wedding day. Now imagine them awkwardly getting to know each other and struggling through early married life together." And then this happened. Get ready for a ride. For anyone who read this on tumblr, minor grammar/spelling edits have been made but there's no change to the events themselves.

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Weiss had half a mind to scream.

It would be cathartic, she thought, as she sat at the head of the table next to her new spouse in a white wedding dress that reached up her neck and down her arms in the traditional Atlesian fashion. She looked every bit the picture of perfection- spine ramrod straight, shoulders back, chin tilted up ever so slightly, expression held in one of mild disinterest- as befitting any of the Schnee bloodline. However, the mask and headdress matching her clothing was definitely alien to her and she was obviously out of place at the wedding feast, just as the rest of her family sitting off to her right appeared amidst the Valen customs and traditions. In Atlas, they were all anyone aspired to be, always poised and seemingly above those around them, but here they looked too lifeless, too calm and collected to be present for such merrymaking.

Years ago, the kingdoms of Remnant went to war. Every continent was engulfed in bloody conflict and Mantle was no exception, the struggle spilling across farmlands and into towns and cities until only Atlas remained to unite the broken people under a single banner: that of House Schnee. One might think that was enough, to hold dominion over a whole landmass, but her father set his sights on the bountiful lands across the sea and her mother did nothing to curb his desire for power. He made the foolish choice- only visible in hindsight- to attack Vale, itself having only recently quelled their own conflicts and returned to peace under the rule of House Xiao Long.

Six months ago, it became apparent that the Valen army was more unified, hardier, and above all deadlier than her father had anticipated. With the risk of their navy landing on Mantle's shores and no way to stop them marching on Atlas, the King had sought a truce. Just like that, she went from being the second born daughter to the most noble family in the land to a bartering chip, surrendered to ensure her family retained their crown.

Some part of her hated her new spouse for that simple reason. This was not a choice for her nor even a passing desire; she was nearly twenty, raised during a time of war, and had long ago cast aside childish notions such as love. A marriage for political or financial gain was a tangible reality, but even that was beyond her reach now. Instead, she would be sacrificed to the potential invaders to cover her father's poor planning and lust for power. On top of that, her new spouse- her new homeland- practiced customs that were absolutely abhorrent to one raised among Atlesian nobility.

They either ate with their bare hands or thin, wooden sticks, with no proper silverware to be found. They spoke loudly and emphatically in their native tongue, banging their fists on the table sporadically and bellowing out their laughter as they poured a sweet rice wine into goblets that were drained almost the moment they were filled. They wore bright colors woven into their shirts and pants but the fabric hardly covered most of the men and some of the women, bellies left vulnerable and arms on display, all of them well suited to the warmer weather.

She thought her father a coward for fearing these people; they wouldn't last a single week of Atlesian nights.

Suddenly, her spouse moved, making to stand and call the great hall to order. It was surprising how quickly the rowdy crowd died down, all eyes turning to their Queen.

Weiss was not given much information on the woman who would now call her 'wife', outside of horrified whispers traded among the Atlesian army. A terror on the battlefield, bearing down on her foes with all the fury of a wronged Goddess, with eyes that bled with the blood of her felled foes and never ran dry, an ancient dragon in human form- tall tales, to be sure. But… she wasn't entirely sure they were based entirely in the imagination of shell shocked soldiers.

Yang Xiao Long was certainly built like a force to be reckoned with. She stood a full head taller than Weiss with thick corded muscles that flexed with every movement, luscious blonde locks cascading down her back in an unruly fashion from beneath the headdress, which was bedecked in bright yellow feathers and a single amethyst gem set between the brows of her mask. The cream colored tunic and leather vest- finely stitched with her family's crest set above her left breast- did nothing to hide the size of her shoulders or chest nor the solidity of her core, the sword belt carelessly slung around her hips hardly moving or digging into her waist, like it did whenever Weiss wore it.

Another Valen custom that seemed so strange to her: every man and woman was a warrior, each taking up a weapon of their own in defense of home and country. There was no set soldier caste and so each and every person, when they married, was expected to exhibit a show of trust in their new spouse by exchanging the weapon they wielded with that of their betrothed for a full week following the wedding. Myrtenaster, the thin blade Weiss had accepted as a present from her father to 'celebrate' her engagement, looked frail hanging from the woman's left hip while Weiss' own arms were covered in the heavy cestus the blonde allegedly used to tear her enemies apart. She half expected to find lingering blood hiding in the grooves. There wasn't any, though, as the metal was polished to a bright shine that drew attention to how small she was in comparison, the metalwork only held in place by leather straps that had never been pulled so tight, though she managed not to embarrass herself whenever she reached out for her drink to lift the mug with everyone else as her new spouse called out above the remaining din.

Whatever the toast consisted of, she was theoretically left ignorant while translators bent their heads low towards her father and sister, but she hadn't spent her days idly awaiting her wedding. She'd studied the words printed in books, wanting to at least understand the whispers that were sure to follow her every step in the other kingdom. _Hearing_ the language spoken, however, was something else entirely, and she struggled to catch phrases and snippets to parse together some greater meaning. She was marginally successful; most of the toast was about the coming age of alliance between Vale and Atlas, how the two noble houses would be bound by honor to protect one another. Then, raucous laughter interrupted the warrior Queen after a particular quip that she didn't grasp and it didn't bode well in her opinion, more than a few glances thrown her way as her father stiffened, the corners of his mouth turned down in distaste. All she could catch was something about 'how long she'd last', referring to the Atlesian, of course. As the amusement quieted down, the blonde turned, extending her right hand in a wordless gesture for Weiss to stand. Slipping her gauntleted hand into the other woman's larger one, she rose with all the poise she could muster, sweeping her blue eyes out across the hall as everyone waited for something to occur.

The mug the other woman held was raised a little higher before she boomed out a single command. " _Gānbēi!"_

As one, everyone in the hall raised their mugs to their lips and began to drink. In Atlas, anything more than a small sip would be considered an overindulgence, but Weiss could see out of the corner of her eye that her spouse was doing her level best to empty the cup in one go. This, at least, was one of the traditions she was told about- a toast meant to drain all the cups in the room. For a guest to not do so was disrespectful to the wedding party; for one or both of the newlyweds, it meant ill omens for the union.

Eventually, the warrior Queen tilted her head all the way back as she drank the last of her mug, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before looking at Weiss out of the corner of her eye, lilac orbs just barely visible through the holes in the mask. "If you put your cup down now, no one will notice."

The words were spoken in Atlesian- though roughened slightly by the woman's accent and nothing at all like the crisp, clean way a native would say them- and she bristled at hearing both her mother tongue butchered and the implication that she didn't have the constitution to finish her mug. Personally, the wine was a tad too sweet, forcing her to stomach it only in small gulps which was somehow interpreted as a lack of fortitude on her part. To prove a point, she continued drinking, forcing her stomach to cooperate as she tipped her head back further. Once the last bit of liquid was swallowed down, she took the cup away from her lips and reached forward, setting the empty thing down on the table and collecting a rag one of the servants had left behind to delicately dab at her mouth.

Just because she was now married to a brute didn't mean she had to forsake her manners completely.

She didn't miss the way the warrior Queen smirked, as if amused by her defiance, before turning her attention to the crowd once more and calling for the soothsayer who oversaw their wedding to read their future. A man with shaggy silver hair and a nigh permanent little smile nodded, bending over his sticks for a minute and then announcing the union as blessed by the Valen gods. He said something about the 'Fall Maiden' being their guardian spirit and the whole building shook from the force of everyone's mirthful shouts, no shortage of wide smiles and various noises of approval among those present.

Weiss kept her gaze evenly trained on a spot on the far side of the hall, ignoring the calls asking for more wine until a hand touched her shoulder lightly. Much to her surprise, it was her spouse, inclining her head towards the rear of the hall.

Ah, so it was time for them to be excused from the merriment to properly meet each other. The Schnees and their entourage had landed in Vale two days ago and made the trek from the shore to Fort Beacon, which the Xiao Longs claimed as their home, with only enough time for an uneasy night's rest before the preparations for the ceremony began. Not once during that time had she even seen the warrior Queen, instead being passed off to lesser 'nobles'- if the Valens even considered such things. There was little information as to how their hierarchy worked, especially without the traditional castes set in place.

Tossed into the unknown for the sake of preserving her father's place; was it any wonder she was angry?

Regardless, Weiss turned and allowed herself to be escorted away- it was better than being thrown over the brute's shoulder, she reasoned- as the wine continued to pour, the newlyweds exiting the meal hall through a back door and both of them stepping out into the brisk evening air side-by-side using what appeared to be a servants' entrance. In Atlas, the snow would be falling in heavy waves and blanketing the land in white, but here there was only a mild chill to the air that pulled more of a reaction from the brute than it did her. The shattered moon overhead lit their way better than the sparse torchlight as they started towards the fort's towering center building, where packs of guards roamed with their weapons on display and wearing smiles that brightened as they called out to their liege, acknowledgements and encouragements evenly mixed among the shouts. The Queen returned their greetings with laughter and the occasional phrase, bidding them a good night.

Despite her shorter stature, Weiss kept pace with the woman step for step, chin tilted up and disregarding the curious looks sent her way. In time, the people of Vale would grow accustomed to her, and with any luck she could be left to her own devices. The alternative was… not a pleasant thought and something she didn't want to entertain as they passed through open double doors and into the entrance hall of the fort's central hub. High stone walls that amplified the sound of her spouse's heavy boots while she moved along almost soundlessly next to her, hands clasped in front of her to keep them from shaking; every step brought them closer to what she presumed to be the bed chamber where their marriage would be consummated, as was required by Atlesian custom. From what she understood, Valens were much more lax in that aspect. Her father had always claimed it made them weaker as a people.

Obviously, he was very wrong on that front.

"Your name is Weiss, yeah?" She snapped out of her grim musings to glance at her spouse briefly, noting how the woman continued acknowledging every person they passed, as if she knew each one personally. The blonde seemed to switch between the two languages effortlessly and disregarded any curious looks from those who heard her speak Atlesian. It wasn't the same sort of indifference with which the Schnees carried themselves, however, no air of superiority hanging heavily around her; instead, she simply seemed confident, almost cocky, as if she could do no wrong and a smile was all she needed to explain herself regardless of how bizarre her actions.

"Yes, it is," the shorter woman replied, though she used the Valen tongue, pleased when she made the staccato syllables flow smoothly together. There was some small part of her that considered keeping her knowledge of the warrior Queen's language a secret, to be better prepared should someone mistake her for a fool, but her pride trumped that little bit of tactical foresight. She would not be considered dull by her new spouse. "It was my great grandmother's name."

That earned her a look- half surprised, half impressed- and a small smile, but it wasn't enough to coerce the Queen into using her native tongue. "So you speak our language."

"I _am_ in Vale and will be for a long time." Weiss pointed out, gritting her teeth slightly. "Did you think me incapable of learning it?"

"No, of course not!" The taller woman barked out a laugh before turning her head, those lilac eyes seeming to catch the torchlight as they paused at the bottom of a staircase, what could be seen of her face softening. "But if you are going to live in my country, surrounded by my people and my kin, I'd rather speak your language when it's just us. It's the least I can do."

That was surprisingly considerate… but Weiss immediately narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "We are already wed; there's no reason for feigned thoughtfulness on your part."

That was technically a lie. According to Atlesian custom, they weren't- at least not yet, as the consummation of the marriage was considered the most important part- but that didn't matter. Even if she attempted to flee, Atlas would not harbor her; this was her home now and this brute of a woman was her spouse, her wife. There was no denying that reality and preserving the traditions of her now lost homeland would do neither of them any good.

She could see the slight downturn in the other woman's lips and didn't doubt her brows were furrowed beneath her mask, but it wasn't in anger- confusion, perhaps. "There's nothing about this that's fake. We're married now and our happiness is tied together. If you are uncomfortable, I am, too."

"Don't take me for a fool." Weiss shook her head, refusing to be treated like an ignorant pawn. If nothing else, her spouse would at the very least accept that she was a woman of considerable intelligence, able to see the world for what it was. "I have no illusions about this arrangement. I'm a trophy, given to you in exchange for sparing my homeland." She paused, internally cursing herself but acknowledging that she did still hold some duty to her former people. Inciting a war by insulting her spouse would be considered betraying that by most. "I will do what is asked of me, but don't expect my gratitude for your attempts at kindness."

She turned, leaving the Queen standing stunned at the bottom of the staircase while hiking up her dress to ascend and hoping the path ahead would either be obvious or the brute would snap out of her stupor before the Atlesian got hopelessly lost. She was nearly to the landing when she heard the other woman's voice call out, bringing her to an immediate halt.

"Would you want to sing for me?"

Weiss turned, looking down at the taller woman for once. "Are you asking me to sing for you?"

"No." The Queen shifted her weight, as if struggling to find the right words. Seeing as they were both still using the other's native language, it was no surprise that the response took a moment to piece together, but she wasn't left waiting long. "I'm asking if there's a chance you may one day _want_ to sing, with me as your audience."

She remained silent, pressing her lips into a thin line. Singing was something she'd learned out of necessity- a noble woman was well practiced in all the pretty arts- but she'd grown rather fond of it in the stolen moments where she could do as she wished. But, as everything, the memories of what little happiness it brought her were tainted by the wars, by the weight of expectation, and by the eventual rejection of those idle flights of fancy.

"It's just that." The blonde sighed, apparently admitting defeat and continuing in her own language, though it wasn't the same quick pace as before. The cadence of her speech was slower and more pronounced, ensuring each word was separated and understandable. Weiss had half a mind to be insulted but, given her proficiency in Valen wasn't enough to keep up with a native speaker, she let the infraction slide for the moment. "We captured some of your kingdom's soldiers last year, towards the beginning of spring. Before we released them, there was one who talked about you like you were old friends. He said your voice was calming like the night wind and that you looked like one of the moon's lost daughters when you sang. That was when you were happiest, according to him."

Unbidden, the name sprang to mind, but Weiss brushed it off quickly. She was aware only one lowly knight who would be so foolish as to speak of her with such familiarity, though she sincerely doubted he would have the presence of mind to use such romanticized descriptions. Even after he'd returned to Atlas- a reclaimed son, thought lost and welcomed home like a hero with the rest of his group- his fumbling attempts to address her never came across as anything more than a mere annoyance. "What bearing does this have on anything? I haven't sang in years."

That was a lie, actually. In the private moments spent away from others, she often sang softly to herself. It was to stay in practice, she told herself, but there was also comfort she took from the action as well. It wasn't something she'd share with another, though.

"I've been told." Reaching up, the woman removed the headdress and mask, baring her face for the first time to the Atlesian. Even if it vexed her to think it, she had to admit the warrior was rather attractive now that she could see her full features, ruddy round cheeks already showing the hints of laugh lines giving her a youthful appearance. And her eyes- without the mask partially obscuring them, lilac glinted with conviction like freshly polished gems from beneath golden bangs. It was startling, how a woman who was touted as one of the greatest, deadliest warriors in Remnant, could be so strikingly beautiful. "Neither of us truly wanted this, Weiss. I understand that. But that doesn't mean it has to be _all_ bad. Maybe… maybe we can make this work, for both of us." She tucked the headdress under her arm as if it were a helmet, giving her the appearance of a rather strange looking knight with Myrtenaster on her hip, the hilt of which she brushed with her fingertips. "I haven't earned your trust yet, but I want to and I want you to be happy. You say you will do what is asked of you. All I ask is: will you give me a chance?"

Weiss blinked. Was this woman truly inquiring if there was a possibility for something genuine to develop between them? "You are asking me a question, implying there is more than one answer I can give." Carefully, she clasped her hands together even as the metal of the cestus covering each forearm clinked together softly. "From where I'm standing, I have reason to doubt that."

"You have a choice." The blonde's lips pressed into a thin line as she drummed her fingers against the sword hilt. "I can't give you back the life you once had. That's not within my power, but there's a village tucked away in the mountains that houses an ancient temple. It- it doesn't get as cold as Atlas but it _does_ snow there. It could never replace your home but you might like it and the monks will treat you with reverence." She shrugged. "There are other places, too. Anywhere in Vale you'd prefer to live, anything you wish to do- say the word and it will be done." A pause. "As long as it doesn't compromise Vale. I wouldn't be very good at this whole ruling thing if I sacrificed my people's wellbeing for my own desires." Then a smile claimed her features, shoulders relaxing every so slightly. "I would _like_ it if you'd stay with me, of course. But whether you remain or leave- or remain and ignore me entirely- is _your_ choice."

The Atlesian bought herself time by taking the final step to the landing, leaving her back to the Queen for a moment. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if her former role in Atlas was much of an improvement over her current situation, even if it _was_ possible. Her parents were abdicating the crown with her father blaming the whole war with Vale on a myriad of reasons that he hoped the 'younger generation' would be able to see more clearly, leaving Winter as the reluctant Queen of Atlas tasked with undoing the damage he'd wrought. Were she to go back, Weiss would undoubtedly be subject to yet another marriage to strengthen the alliance between the conquered kingdoms under her family's rule; that was Whitley's fate, his own wedding set for another two months.

Collecting herself, she turned around, blue meeting lilac. "And if I choose to deny you this chance you seek?"

The smile slid away as the Queen's shoulders dropped. She looked away, biting her lip briefly, before seeming to marshal her thoughts into order, climbing the stairs slowly. Weiss watched, wary, and took two steps back as the blonde arrived on the landing. Now the Queen was taller once more, but she didn't seem intent on lording that over the other woman. Instead, with movements so deliberate and slow as to make the Atlesian anxious, she unbuckled the sword belt and slid it from her hips, allowing the shining metal of the blade to rest in her hands, against the flat of her palms, while her headdress fell to the ground, forgotten. Then, she bent her right knee until it hit the ground, offering up Myrtenaster with her head bowed.

"In that case… I don't deserve this."

Weiss took a half step back, furrowing her brows in confusion. This… had to be a trick of some sort; why would the woman willingly divest herself of weapons while in the presence of a former enemy? Did the warrior Queen think so little of her that even without weapons there was nothing to fear? She cast her gaze around, finding a few roving guards trying and failing to appear uninterested in the events unfolding at the top of the stairs. They didn't seem particularly scandalized; if anything, some looked crestfallen before turning their stares towards their feet while others tried to hide their amusement.

Then, the significance of the weapons registered. This was effectively an offer to break their union, regardless of the blessings of the soothsayer.

"You would be a laughing stock among your people," she said, tentatively resting one hand on the blade, just to see what reaction she could pull from the woman.

"So?" The Queen's gaze raised, a fire burning in the depths of her eyes. "I'd rather they see me as a fool than you see me as a monster." She pushed lightly, firmly setting Myrtenaster in the Atlesian's loose grip. "If it's your desire to leave, I accept that. I only ask that you allow my guards to accompany you; they will remain out of your sight but they'll protect you wherever you choose to go… as long as it's within Vale." A light grimace marred her features. "We're still working out the details of our peace treaty with Vacuo and I'd rather not get _them_ started again. Vytal is at peace and I'd like it to stay that way."

Ah, there it was, the subtle nudge at her pride and duty. Surely if she took Myrtenaster and turned her back on the woman, her family would be slain and her country put to the sword. "And Atlas?"

"Ha!" Mirth played freely over the warrior's features as her shoulders shook. "Atlas doesn't have the army to march or the navy to sail, no offense." Recovering, the woman coughed once. "Your homeland took too many loses early on and the prolonged battles wore worse on your people than mine. Atlas will be too weak to mount another attack for at least three years, and we will be stronger still by then." The warrior Queen seemed to shift uncomfortably, looking away as a blush rose in her cheeks. "I mean… honestly, I knew your father feared we would invade, but that would do us no good. We rely on tight knit communities to maintain our strength; a colony across the sea doesn't appeal to us. If he hadn't suggested a marriage as a sign of goodwill… we wouldn't have sought one."

Weiss scoffed. "Then why accept?"

"A man who would throw his daughter away so quickly does not deserve the pleasure of her company," she replied without hesitation.

"Are you not doing the same thing? Tossing me aside?" The Atlesian lightly grasped the blade and lifted it just enough to draw attention to its weight before letting it lay once against the blonde's palms.

"The difference is I'm giving _you_ the choice on whether to stay or go. I'm not sending you away or keeping you here to suit my own wishes." One brow arched. "Are you saying he asked your permission for this beforehand?"

That was a good point. "No."

For a moment, Weiss weighed the woman's words. If the Queen was trying to deceive her, she was terrifyingly good; if she was being sincere, that was _more_ horrifying. Her father had spoken at length about the savages of Vytal, how they lacked the courtesies and refinement of even the most base Atlesian commoner, but here was their Queen, with a more noble heart than she'd ever seen. No one could be like this and rule a country, especially not one renowned for their fury.

It seemed fitting to put the woman to the test. Retracting her hand from Myrtenaster, Weiss began tugging on the leather straps binding the cestus to her right forearm.

 _That_ finally pulled a reaction from the Queen, a single hand shooting out to… lightly lay against her fingers, a pleading expression pinching her face. "Please, don't."

"Am I not free to leave?" Ice crept into her voice, having suspected as much from the start. Being proven right, however, was adding another layer of frost to her countenance.

"You are, but take them with you. Please." Weiss couldn't help her brows rising in surprise as the blonde's posture slumped further. "It's one thing to not hold your trust, to be rejected in that sense… I can accept that and my people… well, they'll give me a hard time, sure, but it'll be an old joke and nothing more soon enough. Arranged marriages are common and it's not entirely strange for them to… fall through." She could see the genuine pain and disappointment flashing across the Queen's expression. "But to have my _trust_ rejected… it…"

How could this brute manage to confound her at every turn? "I… don't see the difference."

"Taking your weapon back means you can't accept me as your wife. And, that's fine. I can understand that." Lilac eyes lifted to meet her gaze. "But giving me Ember Celica back means I'm not even fit enough for my trust to mean anything to you. That giving you my trust is an insult to you and I…" her gaze dropped "…I put my trust in you willingly, Weiss. Please… let that mean something."

She could scarcely believe it.

The warrior Queen, who felled so many that the rivers ran red with blood and never dried, was a paradox. She was strong enough to tear apart entire battalions herself but her touch was soft and gentle; her voice commanded absolute authority among her people but it had yet to exert even an ounce of that forcefulness on Weiss; she apparently saw nothing wrong with being ridiculed by her own people for being rejected from a marriage but cared enough about _her_ opinion to actually look on the verge of tears.

What probably seemed strangest about the whole thing was that she couldn't think of one person she cared about- aside from her sister- who cared about her opinion half as much.

"You're a fool," she said, scowling slightly. "You don't even know me."

"You're smart- you've learned Valen on your own in less than six months, something your own father didn't expect I'm guessing, and I'd bet money on that. You exhibit every aspect your family demands and it's never enough, but you keep trying anyways because, well, what else you can do? But you're dedicated on your own merits, not just because you're expected to be. When given the chance to slack off, you hold yourself to a higher standard regardless. You think I'm horribly barbaric- you probably expected I'd, what, sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you off to have my way with you, right?" The blonde tilted Myrtenaster slightly. "You've also never actually _used_ this weapon, but you've been maintaining it yourself. You're actually pretty good at it, too."

Apparently, the blonde was much more observant that she would've guessed during their brief time interacting with one another. While that _was_ the first compliment she'd received in… a _long_ while, Weiss couldn't help but fixate on the subtle insult, forget that the woman had somehow read her mind. "And what's deficient about my maintenance skills?"

"You're using the same oil on the blade as the handle." Seemingly ignoring her indignation for the moment, the blonde squinted at the guard. "It's not a huge problem because there's no leather-which would get broken down by the oil- but you're leaving too much and it's going to be difficult for you to grip properly."

"Oh." She blinked. "I… suppose you have a fair point."

"But that doesn't diminish _your_ point; I _don't_ know you, not yet." The warrior Queen looked up at her, utmost sincerity shining in her expression. "I would like to have the chance, though."

It was wrong how much the woman looked like a hopeful puppy waiting for a treat at that moment, as if Weiss' answer would make or break her, and… honestly, she believed that was the case. It was such a departure from the world she'd known, a type of power that was beyond her reach within the walls of Castle Schnee. She was meant to be seen and not heard, if that, but here she would be given that respite only if she requested it. "What am I supposed to call you?" The blonde raised a brow, either at the question or the switch to Atlesian, it was difficult to tell. "Your Majesty?"

"Oh! No, not at all." She flashed a sheepish smile, also changing to her second language. "I… get the feeling Atlas is bigger about formalities, but we're not; everyone calls me by my name unless we have company over."

"Very well, Yang." The Atlesian didn't miss how the blonde's eyes seemed to light up; she half expected the woman thought she didn't know the Queen's name but conceded that it was more likely she simply didn't _expect_ her to use it. Shifting her attention from the woman's expression to Myrtenaster, Weiss took the blade into her hands and ignored the way what little happiness had accumulated in the blonde's face immediately disappeared. "Stand up."

"Um…"

"I am _not_ repeating myself, you dolt," she said, no real venom behind the words. Still, Yang moved quickly all the same, regaining her feet with a speed that was a tad disconcerting considering her size. Ignoring the sensation for the moment, the Atlesian set about securing the belt around her wife's waist once more, allowing the blade to dangle from the other woman's hip. The motions were easy- that's how they'd given the weapons to each other during the ceremony, after all- but this go around was different. "The first time I did this, all I knew was that it was expected of me. This time, I mean it." She stepped back, meeting her wife's lilac gaze. "I believe you… are sincere, at the very least. Whether or not I'll ever sing for you remains to be seen but… I'm your wife." Weiss nodded as she fixed the buckle in place and stepped back. "And I expect to be treated as such."

"O-of course." The blonde nodded quickly. "Your, ah, official title is Queen Consort." Her face screwed up in thought. "I think? Like I said, we're not big on titles-"

"Pick up your headdress."

"Yes, Ma'am." The brute quickly scooped up the colorful, feathered article. "Uh, what next?"

Weiss waved a hand towards the next set of stairs with a raised brow. "Lead the way?"

"Oh! Heh, right." Yang offered a bright smile, stepping up beside the Atlesian and offering her arm. It was a surprisingly genteel gesture and it didn't escape her notice, as she slid a gloved hand into the crook of the blonde's elbow, that her muscles were just as solid as they appeared, but she was distracted from that errant thought by the grimace twisting the woman's lips. "Oh, and, uh, there's one more thing. I… really didn't know you could understand me during the wedding toast and I wanted to… clarify something."

Well, it wasn't hard to guess where _this_ was heading. "About 'how long I'll last', I suppose."

"Yeah. That." Weiss didn't miss how the woman coughed into her hand, trying to disguise the blush rising in her cheeks as they started forward, likely as a means of distraction from the Queen's embarrassment. "It's just… look, I apologize ahead of time, but I… I snore _really_ loud."

She couldn't help but blink. That… wasn't where she expected this particular tangent to go, frankly. "You snore."

"Yeah- it drives everyone crazy. They used to tease me that I'd be single forever, purely because I could drive bears off with my snoring." Yang laughed, shifting the headdress slightly as they continued down the next corridor. "So, yeah, that was the joke."

"In that case, you'll be pleased to know I can be more stubborn than any mere bear," she replied, tilting her chin up slightly. Certainly it was just a little exaggeration and nothing to truly be concerned about.

"We'll see," Yang said, though her smile had returned at the boast. It seemed her wife liked whenever she rose to a challenge. "Our temporary abode is this way."

"You mean this isn't where you spend most of your time?" That was genuinely surprising, given how she'd interacted with everyone.

"Nah, not at all. When I'm not on the march, I usually spend my time in Patch, where I grew up." Once again, the woman flashed a somewhat sheepish smile. "We didn't hold the ceremony there because it's… well, not as impressive as a fort. I mean, by, uh, Atlesian standards."

She nodded, a small smile curling her lips. The least she could do was try. "I… can't wait to see it."

The way her wife's smile somehow managed to grow at that comment made a small amount of warmth bloom in her chest.

It was surprisingly nice.

* * *

Author's Note: ... and, no, I _don't_ know why I seem plagued by various incarnations of _Games of Thrones_ AUs. Because I have several chapters written, this will update weekly until I'm caught up, and hopefully that'll be a while down the road. Thanks for reading this far and I hope you enjoy the story ahead!


	2. Married (Again)

**Disclaimer:** I realize I said 'weekly' updates, but I failed to mention that it's supposed to update on Fridays. I just was late on the first chapter, haha. Also, heads up, some vague, implicated sexy times this chapter. Nothing graphic. So! Here we go!

* * *

Yang drew in a deep breath and let it go slowly, trying to keep herself calm and centered. The steady plodding of her horse's hooves over the worn dirt road helped, as did the rhythmic creaking of her saddle, and she focused all her attention on the subtle music of a small army on the march. It was a trial as of late- she'd always been quick to anger, especially regarding matters close to her heart- but one she was weathering like so many battles over the past decade or so. When the war between the clans first started up and her father became the dreaded Defender of Patch, she stayed one step behind him, learning to fight and lead in his shadow. She wasn't as good at that later part as her sister, she thought, but Ruby had left on some mad quest as per her usual the moment everyone was behaving, leaving the blonde to bear the crown alone. Her father refused to take it- the future belonged to the youth, he'd said, and he trusted his daughter's judgment- but now she wished above _anything_ that he had ascended to the spot in her stead. The job itself wasn't so bad most days, seeing as the various clan leaders respected her authority and themselves were grateful to have a reason to lay aside their weapons and come together once more, but there was always some little detail that proved to be a thorn in her side.

For the past few years, that thorn was the kingdom of Atlas, seemingly hell bent on making war with the Valen provinces. It was a meddlesome annoyance but, seeing as it relied on combat prowess, Yang had triumphed time and time again simply by outlasting her opponents. The Atlesian soldiers couldn't adapt to Vale's warmer climate quick enough and she exploited their recurring dehydration issues to drive them back from the shores. But now, they were at peace with the kingdom across the sea, and her newest headache came in the form of her wife.

Queen Weiss Schnee was a force to be reckoned with in her own right, but in ways that completely blindsided the warrior. Some of it was to be expected in hindsight- they'd grown up half a world away, surrounded by differing customs and values- but she hadn't quite anticipated just how persistent the other woman could be. They were raised differently, they dressed differently- complete opposites. The Atlesian was all long sleeved, high necked dresses, riding side saddle with a straight back and a tilted chin, the absolute picture of grace, while Yang was more comfortable in trousers and an open faced vest barely tied together with a leather cord, sitting astride her big bay with a slight slouch, ready for anything but relaxed all the same. They were already starting to acclimate to one another, though, and the results were… interesting.

It wasn't a bad thing all the time. Ever since her comment about having the thin blade she called a sword but being unable to wield it, Weiss had taken the slight criticism to heart. Valens were warriors by nature, after all, and she thought it a deficiency that she couldn't even begin to hold her own in a fair fight. Luckily, that was easy enough to fix; although he was soft spoken, Yatsuhashi was one of the best swordsmen in Vale and a patient teacher. Where she could not possibly hope to match his strength, Weiss had become quick and flexible, and she was now skilled enough to make even Yang seriously doubt trying to challenge her to a duel even in jest. And, despite the two of them speaking Atlesian when alone- which, if the little smiles she earned were any indication, the blonde was getting better at speaking; at least her wife wasn't suppressing a cringe at her accent anymore, anyway- Valen spilled from her wife's lips in a way that made even some of the older warriors blush and wonder if _they_ were doing it wrong this whole time. That crisp, almost haughty dialect Weiss used just made the words sound so much _better_ and she'd caught a few of her 'personal guard' imitating the accent when they thought no one was looking.

All that was fine. Yang actually found it really amusing, honestly.

What _wasn't_ so amusing, however, was when her own words came back to bite her in the ass.

Weiss had taken it upon herself to learn the language and customs of Vale; unfortunately, Yang had only focused on the former of Atlas. She'd conveniently _missed_ how the foreigners measured their unions and had already paid a bit of a price for her ignorance. Their first week together, spent at Fort Beacon, was rife with cold glares and bristling anger, all because the blonde had refused to consummate their marriage.

She hadn't _meant_ any offense, of course. They were practically strangers and, while she'd seen enough of the woman's character to determine her course of action in trying to win Weiss over, it made her intensely uncomfortable to think about… intimate encounters that didn't feel too dissimilar from a night spent with a prostitute. The expectation that they would just… _do_ it, without taking time to really connect on an emotional level, wasn't something the warrior could wrap her head around; it felt cheap of her to simply _assume_ that she would have the ability to touch her new wife in such a way without _earning_ that privilege first. She thought she was being considerate.

Atlas, however, was different, and Weiss saw their separate bedding arrangements as an insult, apparently.

"Hey, Blondie." She blinked, shifting her gaze from the horizon ahead of them to look at the bear of a man riding beside her with a massive club strapped to his back, his black eyes glinting with mirth. "Your wife's at it again."

Almost dreading what she'd find, Yang turned further in her saddle to look further back along the convoy. She was riding near the front, as per usual, as much out of habit as so she could be one of the first to lay eyes on her hometown again. The Atlesian vacillated between riding at her side and further down, often having spotted something that needed 'correcting' as she put it. The Valens weren't nearly as strict about their marching order but the blonde didn't interfere; the warriors who'd accompanied her as a wedding party would learn first hand that Weiss was not a woman to be trifled with and word would spread quickly if she allowed things to play out. There were a few who had spoken out against the marriage, seeing no reason to shackle Vale as a whole to the kingdom across the sea, but they would likely mind their tongues if rumors started flying that Yang's bride was equally terrifying when incensed.

And, honestly, she was beginning to wonder if the woman possessed any other state of being.

"What is she doing?" Although slightly exasperated with her wife's antics, Yang couldn't help the way her lips curled into a small, dopey grin. Yes, it was something of a headache remaining a step or two away from the woman to ensure she didn't accidentally get in over her head- the blonde had made it abundantly clear that anyone even _thinking_ to harm even one hair on Weiss' head would be sorry- but she honestly got a kick out of watching the prim and proper Atlesian trying to whip the lax Valen into some semblance of order. It was like watching a mountain lion herd cats, but the results were obvious. Everyone sat straighter in their saddle or marched together with a sense of decorum, and though she personally was never addressed about her own poor posture when riding, Yang couldn't help but try her best to emulate her wife's poise when they rode side-by-side. That just meant there were others she could address instead, though.

Today, she seemed fixated on keeping the 'bannermen' marching in time, their burdens carried aloft proudly rather than resting against their shoulders. Yang had only brought them along because it seemed proper- like something out of those old fairy tail books her sister loved- but now it seemed like the group might actually have some idea of how to properly do the job before they reached Patch. Each carried a flag with a different design attached to the long poles, depicting the eight major clans that remained more-or-less intact now that the war was over.

Junior offered with a helpless shrug. "She's something else, huh?"

"Yeah," the blonde replied with a fond sigh. The whole lot were teens on the verge of adulthood, far too young to be veterans of the civil war and the defense against Atlas. They were largely too intimidated by the crowned Dragon of Vale to think about refusing her wife's orders, but they were a good bunch.

"You gonna go save 'em?"

"They're fine." She turned back around to face the horizon. "But, make sure they get an extra dessert tonight, would ya? I think they deserve it."

"As you wish, my liege," he mockingly said though she didn't even think to take offense to the tone. Junior was one of the men she'd fought beside at the largest defense against the Atlesian army during their initial invasion just south of Patch. It was the site of the thickest fighting, when Atlas was at the height of its power and motivation; breaking the invasion turned the remainder of the war in Vale's favor and she couldn't have done it without the man's club bashing down those who refused to fall to her fists.

Idly, her gaze fell to Ember Celica, once again adorning her forearms and catching the midday sun. Once their week was up, they'd traded weapons back, but in the meantime they'd established a sort of ritual. Yang was never allowed to drape the thin swordbelt around her waist herself; that was Weiss' duty and hers alone. Likewise, the blonde carefully strapped her cestus onto pale, thin forearms with reverence. Now, the process was reversed, of course, and she took a bit of pride and a larger amount of happiness in being able to slip her arms around the woman's waist to fix Myrtenaster in place on her wife's smaller frame. Whether or not that same amount of care was returned depended on Weiss' mood, which seemed to be growing more sour as of late, harsher tugs on the leather fastening her cestus in place.

It wasn't until last night, just as they'd made camp on the other side of Forever Fall and a day's ride from the shore, that Ren had explained the situation to her, at least in part. A fearsome fighter in his own right, the young man was much more suited to studies than war and had taken the liberty of bribing a member of the Schnees' entourage in exchange for a few scrolls on customs and courtesies. When he finally got to identifying and translating the segment regarding marriage customs, the young man immediately brought the issue to Yang's attention, having correctly guessed she was not as informed on the subject.

Just as it had hurt Yang to consider having her weapon returned to her, there was a similar dishonor in refusing to consummate their marriage. The blonde had no idea and Weiss had yet to say as much outright but that _had_ to be it; in trying to pay the woman proper respect, she'd unintentionally insulted the Atlesian.

"Junior, we should get in just before sundown, right? You think the ferries will still run?"

"The bigger ones, no, but I'm sure there's a fisherman or two willing to make a few trips. Some of us would have to stay behind with the horses, though." He shrugged again, shifting in his saddle impatiently. Riding always made him antsy, for some reason. "You _that_ eager to be back home?"

"Yeah, actually," she said, glancing over her shoulder again. With Weiss riding beside them, the little retinue of banner bearers looked like proper soldiers, their burdens lightly flapping in the breeze. "I definitely need to be home by tonight."

"Then you will be," he replied simply, nudging his steed to move a little quicker. Those on foot would be able to keep up so long as they didn't hold the pace too long and Yang found herself focusing intently on how she would approach the matter. Honestly, she'd prefer to wait, but if that was viewed as a problem for her wife, then there simply was no other way around it.

She _had_ to do something.

* * *

Twilight in Patch was always a treat. The softly lapping waves slipping along the shore brought with them a cool night breeze that smelled of salt, the occasional gull calling in the distance a counterpoint to the low drum of the city market. A dense copse of trees were all that separated the Xiao Long home from either, tucked away from sight in a small clearing. The house itself wasn't too impressive- before the clan war erupted, they farmed their own food and hunted game, and every beam was set in place by a member of her family, none of whom were above a basic skill set- but it was sturdy, cozy, and much quieter than their makeshift camps and Fort Beacon.

Yet, Yang couldn't find it within herself to accept the calm. Her father was off in the village proper, entertaining the visiting clan leaders for the night so the newlyweds could have some privacy. Both of them would have to weather their steady stream of congratulations at yet another feast the following day- while her wife likely wouldn't see it as such, the attempted invasion was the best boost Vale could've hoped for towards healing, not only uniting the kingdom against a common enemy but providing additional supplies whenever Atlesian cargo was captured, which meant _a lot_ of celebrations before winter hit and they would have to use their own stores- before seeing to a few administrative duties the blonde was already dreading. Leading a kingdom into war was certainly easier than managing it at times of peace, or at the very least it was more entertaining.

"Is there a particular reason you're staring aimlessly out the window?"

Blinking, Yang shifted her attention towards the doorway, noting her wife's stiff posture as she raised a single pale brow in askance, arms crossed over her chest. "I was just thinking about tomorrow."

And avoiding thinking about tonight, she mentally added while turning to face Weiss properly. It was strange, returning to her childhood home as not only a Queen but a married one besides, and briefly she considered if her father's subtle present of a new, larger bed was more appropriate than a new room would've been. At least then there would be no memories to distort; she half expected Ruby to come dashing in any second, jumping up onto her bed to hear one more bedtime story before retreating to her own room.

"I'm surprised they didn't attend the wedding," the Atlesian said, her voice even and expression neutral, but Yang was getting better at reading her wife's posture. Weiss was tense and wary, as if expecting something ill in response.

"I didn't want to risk tempers flaring." Furrowing her brows, the blonde took a few steps away from the window, slowly closing the distance between them. "While _I_ know attacking Atlas would be a dumb idea, some of the clan leaders are still angry about the damages done to their villages, their people. We might be less strict in our courtesies in Vale but we're also not above offense; having a bunch of drunk warriors with grudges in the same room as their former enemies when none of us know each other's customs as well as our own… it just seemed like a recipe for disaster."

Lilac eyes were trained on her wife's form, expecting at least some of her stiffness to slide away- and it did, just barely. However, the woman seemed more inclined to accept the answer for what it was and turn herself to other things. "I suppose my room is down the hall-"

"No," she said, her heart rate picking up slightly as she spoke. It still made her nervous, because to her mind she was asking for something she'd yet to earn and that always made her anxious, but all she received was a flat look at first.

"Ah. Then I'm in this room?"

"Yes. With me." She tried to sound resolute but broke at the last second, hunching her shoulders slightly. "If that's okay?"

 _That_ seemed to break the metaphorical mask Weiss perpetually wore, surprise flashing across her expression before it was shoved aside. There was no hiding the little bit of hope that seemed to take up residence in those blue eyes, though. "Why now?"

"What I said about not knowing each other's customs- that's something I'm guilty of." Her gaze lowered to the wooden planks beneath their feet. "I spent so much time learning your language, I forgot to even find out what Atlas' marriage customs might be like, to compare them to our own. That's my fault and I apologize. You only asked of me to treat you as my wife and, though I felt like I was doing that right by Vale standards, I wasn't by yours because… we… well-"

"You haven't bedded me yet." The woman supplied, saving her fumbling for the word. It was a blunt and crass way of putting it but Yang suspected that was at least in part for her own benefit; the informal language did seem to hint that her wife might not be as cross with her as she'd assumed. "You aren't wrong. By Atlesian standards, we _aren't_ wed. But this is Vale-"

"And _you_ are a daughter of Atlas." The blonde raised her gaze to meet those peerless pools of blue and edged forward a little further with that interjection, still mindful of any sign of retreat from the other woman. It still felt too soon, too abrupt, but she didn't want to continue hurting Weiss, or forcing the woman to disregard her heritage. "I want to respect that. Even if it still… makes me uncomfortable."

"You're not the first to say so." Initially, the non-sequitur threw Yang off, but she quickly realized what the problem was when her wife's hand moved unconsciously to brush beneath the scar that neatly bisected her left eye before catching herself and looking away.

It suddenly hit the Queen of Vale harder than a warhammer. The night of their wedding, she'd lead both of them to their temporary room, which was just one of the nicer lodgings at the Fort that was spruced up a bit for the ceremony. Her headdress was already off but Weiss hadn't removed hers until after they were in the room and _before_ Yang brought up their separate sleeping arrangements. Honestly, she'd almost forgotten how to speak Valen much less Atlesian when confronted by the beautifully pale features of her bride, how her white bangs fell across her forehead like tiny wisps of moonlight, how her eyes shone like gemstones, and that cute button nose that hindered the severity of her expressions only slightly. The scar- faded and uneven- was an after thought, something she noticed and immediately did her best to ignore, but not out of disgust. An injury like that, after all, could've just as easily taken the woman's eye or worse, and the thought was more distressing than she would've guessed possible. The thought of her hurt… even if they hadn't even known the other existed at the time, it made her sick.

So, not only had she failed to heed one of Atlas' customs, causing Weiss some amount of grief, she'd also mistakenly lead her wife to believe that the unintentional rejection was caused by something the Atlesian obviously felt ashamed of still.

"No, Weiss, that's _not_ what I meant." Throwing caution to the wind, the blonde stepped up and lifted both hands, cupping the other woman's cheeks softly. Aside from outfitting the other for the day, physical contact between them was sparse- again because she hadn't felt like she'd earned that privilege yet- but there were only so many ways Yang could think of to offer comfort and reassurance, _all_ of which required touch. "You are _beautiful_ \- you- you're-" She cursed, unable to find the right words and switching to her mother tongue to save them both. "Please, believe me; you are like a legend come to life, a Goddess walking among mortals. The sun is jealous of your radiance and the moon of your composure; you put the stars of the night sky to shame. I'm so sorry I made you think otherwise. It was never my intention."

There was a moment of silence, skepticism showing plain in her wife's face before blue eyes flicked to hers, shoulders dropping ever so slightly as tension slid away. "Then… what _did_ you mean? What… what about me makes you uncomfortable?"

They were both using Valen now and, at this point, Yang felt it was easier to simply roll with it rather than switch back to Atlesian. "It's not you, Weiss. Well, I suppose that's not- what I _mean_ is." She took a deep breath and let it out, trying to center herself. "Weiss, just because we're married doesn't mean I can touch you without your permission. I don't believe that." She rubbed her thumbs lightly along the other woman's cheekbones in an attempt to soothe and almost distractedly happy when she felt slim hands come to rest on her hips. "When we left the feasting hall, I didn't even know if you'd be willing to _stay_ with me, much less have me touch you. I didn't want to pressure you into anything; we'd hardly met, you were forced into this, and I'm… I'm not the one you would've picked, if you were given a choice in the first place."

"I think you sell yourself short, Yang," the Atlesian said, her voice soft. "You… possess a certain kind of charm that would be entirely alien in Atlas. Had we met in my court instead of yours, my opinion of you wouldn't necessarily be a poor one." Tentatively, Weiss moved her hands, gloved fingers tracing across the skin left exposed by the blonde's vest, delineation in muscles earned from years fighting and riding. "You're strong and kind, firm and gentle, powerful and sincere. These things… do not often come together in my homeland."

The blonde frowned, lilac eyes drifting to the faint scar as worry filled her. "No offense, but your people sound a little… barbaric." Somehow, that brought a chuckle out of the other woman, which was enough of a boost to her confidence for Yang to move a little closer, allowing her left hand to drop down to her wife's shoulder. The right remained, though, her thumb tracing the bottom of the scar. "Will you tell me one day how this happened?"

"I'll tell you right now." Weiss closed her eyes, any trace of amusement absent as she continued. "It's my father's belief that children should be seen and not heard, and even then only when called upon. It was a lesson I… forgot once too often."

Yang instantly felt her blood boil, absolutely livid at the implication, but she had to be sure even as heat suffused her being. "Your father did this?"

"Not personally, but it was on his order." The Atlesian turned her head, away from her touch. "It was years ago. Old news."

She wanted to argue, clenching her jaw for a moment to keep the words on her tongue and set her right hand on the woman's shoulder. Even if she itched to regain the former contact, she wouldn't push, at least for the moment. It took a supreme amount of effort but she managed to go for a different approach, though there was no hiding the anger lurking in her tone. "Your father's never allowed _near_ our kids unsupervised."

Blue eyes turned to her, half of a laugh out of her mouth before it was cut off. Even if she'd managed to keep from expressing her rage in a direct manner, there was one way it always showed through. "Your eyes…"

"I'm upset," she said, as if that was all the explanation she needed for suddenly sporting blood red pupils. It was something she'd noticed over the years warring with Atlas, yet another difference between their homes. The kingdom across the sea relied on steel, bulk, and advanced weapons to win their battles while Vale's warriors focused on skill, camaraderie, and the development of their inner chi. The blonde's always manifested with a surge of heat and blood red eyes, somehow empowering her to weather blows that would tear weaker souls to shreds.

Weiss seemed to notice her higher body temperature a moment after her eyes, appearing somewhat surprised, but she didn't draw away. She did glance at the hands on her shoulders, though, making a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. "I… suppose that explains why half of Atlas is convinced you're part dragon."

"It's just my chi. It tends to flare when I'm hurt or mad." The warrior pulled in a deep breath, trying to center herself. "And right now I'm just… I'm so _angry_. What sort of father would do that to his own child? Why weren't you allowed to speak your mind?" She was going in the wrong direction, her voice beginning to raise the more she spoke, so she cut herself off with a growl. "He was probably just jealous you're smarter than he'll ever be."

Perhaps insulting the man wasn't the best move but it certainly went a long way towards cooling her temper. Had she known before the wedding, venting her frustration might've included at least one punch, but she suspected that's all it would've taken. The soon-to-be former King of Atlas looked as though he was made of broken glass, all jutting edges poorly smoothed over by an unsteady hand. One good shot might've crushed his skull in and she didn't feel particularly remiss for having that thought.

What remained of her rage was snuffed out in the blink of an eye as she became abruptly aware that Weiss was moving. The blonde expected her wife to draw away, gain distance, as most often did when she became peeved. Instead, the woman moved closer, the hands that spent most of the conversation tracing along the grooves of her abs slipping around to her back and pulling her closer. It was exhilarating; Weiss didn't often initiate contact between them, and even that was limited. A touch at the shoulder or elbow for attention, a brush of hands in reassurance, or a playful swat after a bad joke or a particularly awful pronunciation were about as far as the two had gotten.

This was actually their first hug and all the tension keeping Yang's shoulders rigid flowed out at that realization, her own arms encircling the Atlesian to hold her gently as she bent her head down to whisper in her ear. "No one else is going to hurt you like that, ever again." She felt emboldened by the positive contact and gently pressed her lips against her wife's temple. "I promise."

"That's a difficult pledge to make," Weiss replied, though she didn't seem perturbed by the kiss.

"So? I'm the Queen of Vale and the Dragon of Patch." She closed her eyes, soaking in the feel of the smaller woman pressed against her. "It doesn't matter how hard it is; I'll do it. You're worth protecting, Weiss."

At that, her wife drew back ever so slightly, a silent request for her to open her eyes and look. The moment she did, the blonde saw the slight wonder sparkling in those blue eyes, as if some part of the Atlesian was unable to process her words. Finding herself suddenly lacking the willpower to resist- and hoping she wasn't overstepping her bounds- Yang quickly snuck in another kiss, this time aiming for the scar. The reaction was immediate- a slight jolt that passed through her wife's frame- but no motion was made to push her away or discourage her. Instead, the moment the blonde drew back to reaffirm her promise, a slim hand quickly slipped up to cup her jaw and guide her into a proper kiss.

This time, it was the warrior's turn to jump, shocked slightly at how good it felt and how her eyes slipped shut seemingly of their own accord just before she pressed into the contact. There was a bit of pride welling in her chest at having gotten this far, earning this little bit of glorious affection from the Atlesian, but that would be something she could reflect on later. The matter at hand was keeping up with the woman as she suddenly drew back, trying to hide her sudden shortness of breath by surreptitiously inhaling deeply. Seeing as Yang's arms were still wrapped around her, though, it was a futile effort, and one she abandoned completely when the blonde let out a breathless laugh, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

"Well, that was… something." Weiss offered, obviously flustered for perhaps the first time in their all-too-brief relationship.

"Yeah." The blonde smiled. "But, the choice is still yours, you know. We could just sleep. It was a long trip and a night in a proper bed will do us both some good."

Her offer seemed to be carefully considered before blue eyes flashed with determination. "I would rather we consummate our union, Yang. Some part of me thinks my father might be foolish enough to try taking Vale again, either by brute force or subterfuge. I want there to be no doubt where my loyalties lie."

"With me?"

The Atlesian drew back enough so Yang could get the full effect of how she rolled her eyes. " _Yes_ , you dolt, with you."

"I'm just making sure," she replied, trying to sound at least a little annoyed but failing miserably as a wide smile split her features, to the point she was sure her cheeks would start hurting if she held it long enough.

Although she was already missing the contact, the blonde stepped back so she could begin undressing. She was quickly stopped by her wife, intent on tackling the task herself. First went her weapon, each cestus laid with reverential care on the desk pressed against one wall, and then her vest, followed by her trousers, which were all relatively simple. However, lithe fingers slid them away from her body with such deft precision that Yang almost had to wonder how often her wife had undressed another before settling on the more likely explanation: she was simply too meticulous to fumble with the simple buttons and ties. When the tables were turned and the warrior was faced with the task of removing the dress- which laced up the back and _how_ did Weiss even manage to dress herself every day anyway?- she found the other woman's calm instructions easy and offered with only a little teasing lilt to her voice.

Unlike the Atlesian, who had remained almost clinical during her turn, Yang couldn't help but let her fingers wander across newly exposed skin. She didn't need the aid of a mirror to be aware of the scars crisscrossing her own back, barely hidden by her luscious hair now that her vest was removed, and she could see well enough the ones on her arms and knuckles from more battles than she could count. In contrast, her wife's skin was smooth and unblemished, except for the mark marring her face, and further cementing in the blonde's mind that she was, in fact, blessed enough to have married some forgotten deity trapped on the mortal plane. Everywhere she touched, a shiver followed, until finally Weiss refused to allow her exploration to continue and lead both of them to the bed. Only once they were both laying down, underthings discarded with far less care than the rest of their respective ensembles, was the blonde allowed to continue.

It was slow going, especially at first. Committing to memory a thousand responses, touching and touching again to see if the same reaction would come or if it was just surprise, and once her wife even commented on it.

"At this rate, we'll need days to finish this, you know."

"Then days we'll take," she replied, ensuring she met the woman's gaze as a small smile curled her lips. "I'm in no rush."

It wasn't perfect. They were learning together what worked and what didn't and the Atlesian was reluctant to speak up on some of those things, so Yang had to read her body language, the pitch of her voice, the hitch in her sighs to determine her pleasure. The blonde was easier, more straight forward, but she kept in the back of her mind to not ask too much. Then they moved together, out of sync but eventually finding their rhythm, giving and taking in equal measure. There were still some rough spots but, for a fight night together as a wedded couple, it certainly wasn't _bad_.

When they finally came to rest late into the night, covered in sweat and curled up together, the Queen of Vale felt peace descend on her much easier than it had in the past six months, and she hardly had the presence of mind to draw a blanket around them before slipping off to sleep.

* * *

The morning light streamed in through the open window, birds singing their song loudly for all to hear. Faintly, she could remember waking before the sunrise in this very room, rushing downstairs to help her parents with breakfast for themselves and Ruby before following her father out to their small garden, and cutting wood when she got older to take to market. The simple joys of a life filled with hard work, before the wars and the blood and the crown she now bore, and she sighed slightly at the mental acknowledgement that she'd already overslept. No doubt her father or one of the clan leaders would come banging on the door soon, calling her to the town square to introduce her wife to each of the grizzled old warriors and those set to take their places, but the moment she started to shift, a voice cold as ice froze her in place.

"Don't. You. Dare."

Blinking the world into some small semblance of order, Yang noticed that her arm was loosely curled around Weiss' waist, pulling the smaller woman's frame against her as they lay together. Suddenly, all the memories from the night before came rushing back and there was no stopping her from carefully leaning over and pressing a kiss to the Atlesian's cheek. "Morning."

"Yes, it is morning, very astute observation." Her voice was thick from sleep and her eyes remained closed but there was nothing subtle about the way her wife pressed back against her, one arm laying over the blonde's. "Now, stop moving. I want another hour, at least."

There was a cheeky comment on the tip of her tongue about having tuckered the woman out so thoroughly but the woman _did_ have a tendency to be a bit cranky early in the morning. "Kept you up with my snoring, huh?"

"Actually, you don't snore when you sleep on your side, I've noticed," Weiss replied, snuggling under the covers a bit further. "I'm simply comfortable and we just finished a long trip. Is an extra hour too much to ask?"

"Nah, not at all." Closing her eyes, the blonde inhaled deeply and let it go, happy to lounge in the morning with her wife for a while longer yet.

The worst that could happen would be the clan leaders starting the celebrations without them and, honestly, that was fine by her. Everyone would soon know of the Atlesian one way or another and she didn't doubt they would all be as awestruck as she was. Unfortunately for the lot of them, _she_ was the one lucky enough to be married to the woman.

* * *

Author's Note: So, this is the story format we'll be following from here on out unless something changes- Weiss POV and then Yang POV. May the ridiculousness continue. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	3. The Art of War

**Disclaimer:** Gonna be dealing with some culture clash, linguistic ticks, introducing characters, and combat this chapter. And some fluff, I guess.

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Weiss glanced up, watching as gentle rays of sunlight filtered through the leafless branches overhead, a cool breeze teasing the end of her offset ponytail as the strands brushed the back of her calves. Growing accustomed to the manner of dress in Vale was something of a trial. The wardrobe she'd brought from Atlas would make her pass out from stifling heat; the fabric were heavy, designed to combat the Atlesian cold, and Vale's climate simply ran much warmer in comparison. Her wife had done everything in her power to ensure the new wardrobe would suit her tastes, though, with every garment woven from the finest silk or the smoothest cotton, dyed white or blue to match her hair or eyes. They all had high necks, long sleeves, hems that brushed the ground, and pants to provide her modest where most Valen clothing provided little, to her sensibilities, anyway. Designs were stitched into them as well, looping and elegant, and Weiss didn't miss how the Valen royal sigil- a fierce, golden dragon lacking wings- entwined with the white snowflake that had always stood as the emblem of her house over her left breast.

It wasn't hidden beneath the dragon and the ancient progenitor of the Xiao Long clan- or so the legends went, and she was finding them a little difficult to discount- didn't superimpose itself over the snowflake. They simply existed, together, in the same space, equal parts of her new sigil and a perfect counterpart to Yang's own, a flaming heart with the same dragon wrapped around it, yellow and gold standing out against the brown of her vest. With the turn towards cooler weather, the woman had taken to wearing a plain, long-sleeved shirt beneath the hide and matching full length pants tucked into her boots. It was curious to see her now, as winter began to settle into Vale, fighting not to shiver while pulling her sash tighter, trying to keep the warm air trapped within the confines of her shirt even as the long, tapered end fell lower, just past her knees. The oddest part wasn't that, by Atlesian standards, this ensemble would've been far more acceptable for their wedding than what the blonde actually wore; it actually stemmed from the twinge of regret lingering in the back of her mind. She'd… grown rather fond of seeing her wife's chiseled muscles on display, especially whenever they came out to the clearing together. Now, she could only admire them when the two prepared for bed or awoke for the day.

"You know we don't have to do this, right?" The blonde offered, as she always did, her supportive smile doing little to hide the worry in those lilac eyes.

"Nonsense," she replied, straightening her posture and tilting her chin up, brushing off the annoyance that it did little to intimidate her taller wife. "You said it yourself; Valen children are capable of controlling their semblance. I can do this."

"It's not a matter of can or can't, Snowfall." Yang's shoulders dropped slightly as she spread her hands. "You don't need your semblance. I promised I'd protect you, remember?"

"It's not a matter of need. Am I not allowed to protect myself?" A low blow, perhaps, taking advantage of the blonde's perpetual concern regarding their arranged marriage to bolster her argument, but the back and forth between them was exhausting. Her wife would relent, as she usually did, and the lesson would proceed, yet she always tried to gently discourage further attempts. Where once the Atlesian might've suspected some manner of foul play- much easier to exert control, after all, when the target had no means of defense- now she knew better. The reluctance on the Queen's part came entirely from not wanting to see the disappointment on Weiss' face when she failed to manifest her chi in any significant way. In the two months they'd been together, that much she was willing to bet on without hesitation.

Her fascination with chi, however, was far more recent. After the blonde's comment on what the Atlesian considered their 'true' wedding night, the curiosity lingered. There was no word in her native tongue that corresponded with 'chi', leaving her at a loss for what Yang had truly meant. It wasn't until a month later, when the question flew from her tongue over breakfast before she could clamp down on the impulse, that she realized it was a purely Valen concept. The blonde had pursed her lips together in thought, trying to snatch the Atlesian equivalent and failing, before launching into a brief explanation. An energy that resided in all things and could be harnessed by the Valen warriors to protect them from grievous wounds. But chi could be developed further, allowing an individual warrior to achieve things far beyond the scope of a regular human being.

"A semblance," she'd said in her mother tongue, wonder filling her tone. Yang had furrowed her brows, confused, before she explained, retelling half a hundred tales from Atlas about great heroes who were blessed by God, granted a bit of divine power to aid them in battle, protecting people and doing great deeds. It was thought that only those chosen by the heavens to become heroes were capable of receiving such gifts.

The blonde had laughed. "You don't need a blessing to be a hero. Just a strong heart."

Weiss had wanted to protest- there was no evidence in Atlas to contradict those old tales and she was raised believing them- but instead she'd paused and considered. If the Valen army were all capable of wielding their 'chi' in such a way, to the point where they effectively had the semblances of old, then it would certainly explain why the war against Vale was so obviously doomed. How every wave sent to the distant shore came back, muttering absolute gibberish about the terrors they faced on the battlefield… perhaps her father had dismissed their claims too quickly.

Rather than argue the point, the Atlesian took what appeared to be the obvious step. If Valens could harness their 'chi', and Atlas had their own legends regarding something similar, it _had_ to be possible for Weiss to develop her own chi, her own semblance. Her skills with the sword were already a match for her instructor; Yatsuhashi had said as much before departing to return to his own lands.

Snapping back to the present, blue eyes caught the way Yang's lips twisted into a frown. "You're allowed to do whatever you want, Weiss. I just don't like how much this is upsetting you."

"I'm frustrated by my lack of progress," she replied, curling her fingers around the hem of her sleeves. "Ceasing altogether is _not_ a step in the right direction if that's where your concern truly lies."

"Maybe you just don't have a very good teacher." The Queen shrugged, puffing out a sigh. "This… it all came naturally to me. I don't know how to explain it right." She passed a hand through her hair, obviously more aggravated than she was letting on previously. Maybe the Atlesian shouldn't have prodded; Yang had shown her nothing but kindness over the past two months. With all the clan leaders gone, returned to their lands after wishing the newlyweds a happy union, there was no one left aside from the blonde herself who even had an idea how to teach another to manifest their chi. "But… there's one more thing I can think of that might work."

"Then let's try it." Weiss allowed herself a small smile, hoping it would encourage her wife. It was strange, how such small gestures seemed to mean something greater to the other woman while they would be outright shunned back in Atlas. No weaknesses on display, no cracks in the armor her father had often said, but it seemed the more she showed Yang, the more the blonde wanted to see.

It was… heartening.

"Yeah, okay." Yang nodded, her smile returning. "It's going to be a little different from what we've been doing."

The past two weeks were filled with meditation and simple, repetitive motions meant to clear her mind and hone her awareness of her body in turn, but neither seemed to do anything aside from offer unique relaxation methods the Atlesian was unfamiliar with, which was a good thing. Not their goal, of course, but a boon nonetheless. Their chosen space, a clearing just a little ways from the blonde's childhood home, served their needs well, providing a tranquil area devoid of distractions, except the errant animal like a squirrel or a deer moving through the minimal brush. They could only come out whenever her wife's duties allowed, which was surprisingly often all things considered. At least once a day for an hour or two, but it still wasn't enough for them to make significant headway towards their goal.

After hesitating for a moment longer, the Queen approached. Weiss watched, blue eyes briefly catching on the gleaming light any time the cestus passed beneath unbroken sunlight, and remained still while the blonde walked around behind her. Myrtenaster hung on her hip, as they were both armed whenever they left their bedroom, and there it remained as her wife was mindful not to catch its pointed tip against her pant leg. There was a pause before Yang came closer, hardly any space between the two of them. "If… if you don't-"

"I'll say something." She assured, turning her head just enough to catch her wife's gaze over her shoulder. Although it made her uneasy at first, she'd grown more than accustomed to the blonde's occasional timidity whenever it came to physical contact between them. It clearly never resulted from lack of impulse- although she'd never made a comment on it, Weiss had caught her wife more than once reaching out towards her and then jerking the movement into something else, like a poorly executed stretch- and the Atlesian had come to accept Yang was genuinely trying to simply respect her space. A concept she was growing to appreciate just as her regard for the woman was slowly turning to… fondness.

Or perhaps something a little stronger.

The blonde's larger hands landed on her hips, somehow burning through her clothes despite exerting no pressure. "You remember the breathing exercises? I want you to start… but sync your breathing with mine."

She raised a brow at that instruction for a moment before Yang moved closer, standing almost flush against her back. Heavy boots bracketing her much smaller, thinner shoes, wide hips against her backside, those hands sliding up her sides and down her arms until the blonde's gauntlet clad hands curled around her own. Breath stuttering in her chest, Weiss didn't dare move as she became acutely aware of every point of contact between them. It might've caused her apprehension once but now it just made her feel warm and safe, eyes falling half lidded of their own accord.

"Come on, Snowfall. Breathe _with_ me." The blonde's soft, smooth voice set just beside her ear nearly made her shiver, but the Atlesian managed to marshal her senses at the last minute, focusing on following the other woman's lead. Eight counts in, eight counts out, her heartbeat slowing from its steady pound to a soft lull that fell away. Her wife's heart was strong, louder, so she focused on that, as if she could truly feel it against her back. "Good, just like that. I'm going to reach out with my semblance."

Weiss kept the majority of her attention on her breathing. Yet, she could distinctly feel the moment when Yang's chi surged, through the blonde's body and into hers, like a wildfire spreading across dry grasslands. Searing heat that didn't burn rushed over every nerve ending before something else rose up to meet it, an unnatural cold that suffused her being and moved outward, pressing against the other woman's presence. Somehow, despite the _knowledge_ that she felt cold- colder than she thought possible- she didn't shiver or balk, as if the ice inside her was no threat. Once it reached the tips of her fingers and toes, everything settled and she began to feel a new sort of balance take precedence, like she'd spent her whole life precariously wobbling on the edge of a cliff and just now realized there was solid ground just a step behind her.

"Perfect." She could hear the smile in her wife's voice. "Now, move with me. The first twenty four forms."

In her right mind, she would be skeptical they could actually move together without severely injuring themselves, but she was just about the furthest thing from that state of being just then. There was just the beating of Yang's heart and their combined breathing providing white noise in her head, so she moved without thinking, the repetitive motions burned into her muscles' memory. The heat never abated, their forms never separating as they moved. Was Yang leading her through the motions? Or was she guiding the blonde?

Did it matter?

They moved, comprised half of winter's fury and a happy inferno, each motion fluidly flowing one into another until they reached the last one. Arms raised, one outstretched while the other hovered midway, stance wide and steady, they stilled, hearts beating in time and breathing deep and even.

"Bring us back to center."

Weiss did so- still unsure if she was initiating each movement or if she was simply following the blonde's lead- taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly as their arms came to rest, elbows bent and a bit higher than she would usually keep them, an approximate compromise between their differing centers while their feet returned to a simple, ready standing stance. After a moment of remaining like that, Yang moved, her fingers working between the Atlesian's until they were threaded together, bringing both arms in for a hug.

"Did that work?" She asked, leaning back into her wife's solid embrace. Honestly, the answer didn't matter to her too much- if this failed, she would hunt down the nearest library and turn to literature for answers- but her curiosity simply won out this round, as it was starting to do more and more often.

Yang chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss just behind her ear. "I don't know. I think it did, but we'll have to-" Suddenly, the deep booms of the village's drums echoed out over the forest, pulling the blonde's attention away. Weiss' breath hitched, immediately equating the warning with an impending attack. There was no other explanation. "Stay here."

"What? No," she replied even as her wife pulled away, turning towards the path that would lead to the village. "I'm coming with you."

"Weiss-" The Queen looked back- and, make no mistake, that's exactly who the woman was right then, brows furrowed and expression set in absolute seriousness- and seemed to war with herself for a moment before coming to a decision. "Just… be careful. If things look bad, run back to the house. My father will keep you safe."

"I can defend myself."

As the drums rang out again, Yang stepped towards her quickly, both hands coming up to gently cup her face. "I know that." Her expression faltered, the determination of a warrior about to head into battle sliding away as worry overtook her features. "You could have the blessing of every deity in Remnant and I would still worry, Weiss. I care about you."

Rising up slightly, the shorter woman leaned up to press a soft kiss against her wife's lips. "And I care about you, Yang. That's why I refuse to cower while you charge into battle. By your side is where I belong."

Although she looked ready to argue, the blonde merely nodded silently before they both turned to run towards the village. It was easier without all the extra foliage, allowing them to glimpse the shore in the distance. The Atlesian couldn't see any ships or boats, nothing to indicate the enemy landed and began their assault from there, but she was more focused on not tripping, hiking up the hem of her long robe to keep up. When they broke through the edge of the forest, at the top of a hill that sloped down into the village proper, they were able to take in the breadth of the battle below. No less than twenty hooligans were in the main thoroughfare, yelling loudly in a foreign tongue that Weiss couldn't begin to place and fighting with the Valens defending their town.

"Haha! This should be fun!" Blinking in surprise, Weiss looked at her wife and noted the wide smile on her lips, excitement flashing in her eyes. "Okay, change of plans; if things get bad, just go to the ground and don't get up. Also, don't kill anyone, just disarm them or knock them to the ground, trust me!"

"Wh- what kind of instructions are those?" She sputtered, her request falling on deaf ears as the blonde charged forward, leaving her rushing to catch up and draw Myrtenaster from her side. The metal flashed dangerously as her momentum carried her down the hill and into the street, a few steps behind the other woman who seemed to lock onto her target immediately.

"You!" Her voice called out above the din of combat, catching the attention of one invader with a shock of bright red hair, broken up only by… the… _bull horns on his head_.

Faunus. The Faunus of Menagerie, creatures the people of Atlas reviled as beings of unnatural origins, had invaded Vale. A cold bolt of dread shot through her as she raised Myrtenaster to a ready position, blue eyes scanning to take stock of the threats all around. Now that they weren't indistinct blobs in the distance, she could clearly make out the various defining traits on display- a monkey's tail, a dog's ears, a ram's horns- but she didn't have time to catalog each and every distinction before she caught sight of a combatant bearing down on her. Weiss quickly turned, ready to face off as the Faunus stopped a few paces from her and raised their sword.

In the heartbeats before their battle would begin, her eyes scanned over her opponent, seeking out any obvious weaknesses. A decidedly feminine figure wrapped up in a white shirt with a black waist coat atop it, white pants tucked into knee high black boots, and a light purple ascot tied around her neck that brought out the shine in bright amber eyes- she wouldn't look too out of place among Atlesian nobility, were it not for the cat ears standing proud atop luscious black locks that cascaded back over her shoulders. These were the monsters Atlesian children were told would steal them away in the dead of night and it took a mental feat of strength not to back down immediately. The Faunus was smiling, obviously amused, while her sword lazily traced a figure eight through the air between them. The blade's scabbard hung from a belt about her hips and Weiss cursed her shortsightedness; had she drawn Myrtenaster into her right hand, she could at least count on the element of surprise against her foe.

The Faunus said something in a flowing language that sounded entirely alien to the Atlesian, unable to parse anything but the obvious enjoyment she was getting from the one-sided exchange. With a noise somewhere between nonchalance and disappointment, her opponent shrugged off the lack of a response and pressed forward, lightly tapping their swords together.

A test, to see if she would take the bait. Weiss narrowed her eyes, her pride bristling at the obvious affront. She would _not_ allow herself to be made fool of, especially not when defending her wife's hometown. A second tap she let slide, remaining calm and poised, but when the Faunus went for a third, she twisted her wrist, allowing the other blade to sail through the air while she lunged forward, quite nearly driving the tip of her blade into her opponent's side.

The Faunus skipped back, belting out a quick laugh while bringing her sword to bear again. After that, there were no more games as Weiss defended herself from a series of quick strikes, parrying each while ceding as little ground as she could. It took no time at all for it to become apparent that she was outclassed; the Faunus likely fought for years, flipping her blade around with ease while the Atlesian kept a firm death grip on her own. However, after a particular exchange brought the edge of her foe's sword a bit too close to her neck, Weiss changed her tactics, calling forth the forms Yang taught her to make her movements seem more erratic while conserving her energy, allowing one motion to flow into the next. That bought her a few seconds' respite and forced her opponent to show her hand, the Faunus's off hand quickly pulling her scabbard free through some sort of mechanism and using it to block a strike that well could've landed across her back.

And then Weiss was defending herself twice over, blocking both the blade and its scabbard as the Faunus pressed a relentless attack. She could hardly keep up, retreating with every parry and having to duck at least once to avoid a slash. It occurred to her to heed her wife's warning and simply 'play dead', as it were, but some part of her objected heatedly to such a sentiment. Instead, she grit her teeth and exploited a small window of opportunity to aggressively press her opponent. It was futile, that much was made certain when the Faunus dropped the pretense of needing both arms to deal with her strikes, allowing only the scabbard to blunt her attacks, and only a matter of time before experience won out over enthusiasm.

"Hey!" Against her better judgment, blue eyes snapped to the source of that pained, angry shout, immediately recognizing the voice. When her gaze landed on the blonde, whose golden locks were just barely being released by the Faunus sporting huge boar tusks jutting from his cheeks and a massive sword, there were already signs her chi was flaring to life, lilac giving way to blood red in an instant as the woman rounded on her opponent, a crushing right cross landing on his cheek and sending the bulky foe to the ground easily.

But that was just a distraction as the one with the bull horns from earlier sprinted forward, already sporting evidence that he was losing his own fight against Yang. He took advantage of her distraction, however, reaching to pull his sword free while her back was still turned, jumping high into the air so gravity would strengthen the blow.

The blonde must've sensed it, must've felt the presence bearing down towards her because panic flashed across her expression even as she tried to jump forward and get out of the way. She wouldn't be quick enough, though; he had a head start and the sick, red color of his blade was already showed as he drew it free.

"YANG!" She called out, reaching towards her wife with her right hand as if she could pull the woman out of harm's way from the other side of the street.

The very next moment, everything stilled. The sounds of fighting died down all around her as Weiss stood, frozen, arm outstretched.

It wasn't until Yang turned around, wide-eyed, to look at the giant snowflake that suddenly sprang into existence behind her that the Atlesian even thought to breath. White light formed a perfect mimicry of her family's sigil, apparently forming a shield that the bull horned Faunus couldn't get through. In fact, he seemed a bit… _stuck_ , braced against the white snowflake but unable to move. Well, anything except his eyes, apparently, which looked at Yang with such barefaced hatred that Weiss knew she wanted nothing less than to send this cretin far, _far_ away from both of them.

Whatever the snowflake was, it readily complied with that sentiment. Without any warning, it launched the Faunus away, sending him flying in an arch that went high enough it allowed one of the other Faunus- shaggy blond hair and a monkey tail, that was about all she could glean- to scramble up to the roof of the tavern, disappearing from sight for a moment before poking his head out over the main street.

He shouted in that strange language, apparently shocked as his jaw hung open immediately after he finished.

There was silence. Complete, total silence.

Then, the Faunus she'd spent the past however long fighting suddenly broke down in a laughing fit, hardly able to slide her sword into its scabbard and secure it to her hip before she doubled over, arms across her stomach. Weiss had thought she'd gone mad until everyone else joined in- Valen and Faunus alike- and then she considered perhaps she had gone mad and this was all just a hallucination. Blue eyes cast around, looking for _anything_ to make sense of the situation, but there was nothing except a smiling blonde bounding towards her.

"Weiss!" Out of breath and covered in sweat, Yang scooped her hands beneath the smaller woman's arms, effortlessly lifting her up into the air and spinning her around. The Atlesian's focus switched from trying to figure out just _what_ was happening to maintaining a keen awareness of her sword, not wanting to hurt the brute currently treating her like a child. She'd curse her wife's abundant strength but settled for wrapping her legs around the woman's hips and using her free hand to grab hold of her shoulder, steadying herself. "You did it! That was _amazing_!"

"Yang! _What_ is going on?" Weiss growled, effectively bringing them both to a halt. It didn't bother her so much that they were speaking Valen, considering they were standing in the middle of the village, but they were also still surrounded by enemies, so now really wasn't the time for such theatrics. The hands at her armpits moved down, wrapping around her waist and holding her. There were small tremors all along the blonde's arms, as if the brute was just barely refraining from delivering one of her crushing hugs as lilac eyes sparkled. "And what _did_ I do?"

"You manifested your chi! I've never seen anything like it- I mean, usually it's just a physical surge, like mine and Ruby's and Dad's, or an illusion, or-"

"Yang, you're babbling." Someone else cut in and the Atlesian turned her head to look at the Faunus she'd been fighting.

"I'm excited, Blakey! Did you see that?" Yang laughed, holding her closer and lowering her voice. "I'm so proud of you, Weiss! I knew you had it in you."

It took a conscious effort to beat down the heat she could feel rising in her cheeks but her lips pulled into a small smile against her will anyway. "Put me down, you dolt."

"Oh, right." Her wife's sheepish tone was a tad ridiculous, all things considered, but it still made her feel bad. "Sorry."

The moment she was on her feet again, Yang made to pull away but she reached out, carefully grabbing the blonde's wrist to keep her still. Setting Myrtenaster at her hip once more, Weiss pulled gently to bring her wife down, allowing her to lean up and brush a gentle kiss against the woman's lips. Physical affection in front of others still seemed so… wrong on some level yet it didn't stop her from setting the woman's mind at ease. And, perhaps, she was grateful that she even _could_ give her wife a kiss, considering the battle that had raged just moments ago. "Are you hurt?"

It took a moment for the blonde to come back to her senses, apparently surprised by the gesture. Once she did, a smile curled her lips, that soft expression she wore so often when they were alone. "Nah, of course not. This was just a mock battle."

And just like that, her goodwill dried up. "Just a _what_?"

"In the times before the wars, whenever the Chieftains of Menagerie came to visit the clan leaders of Vale, they would show their respect for Valen warrior culture by engaging in tests of skill, fighting honorable duels with no intent to wound," the Faunus said, her own Valen accent altered slightly by her mother tongue. If she noticed the way Weiss stiffened, she said nothing of it, continuing on while wiping mirthful tears from her eyes. "Now that Menagerie and Vale are at peace, we've brought the tradition back."

"It's a sign of trust between our nations." Yang reached out to firmly grasp the Faunus' forearm in greeting, still smiling widely. "Plus, Menagerie is home to some of the best weaponsmiths in all of Remnant. They've forged a lot of our weapons; it's only fair they get to see how we wield them. Blake here actually forged mine."

"It was the second one I forged, the first being my own sword. I'm surprised Ember Celica has held up after all these years." The Faunus turned their arms, amber eyes tracing along the cestus' grooves with a craftman's care, seeking out any imperfections. "You've certainly put it through more use than I anticipated."

"Yeah, two wars will do that-"

"YANG!" A deep voice boomed out, calling their attention to further down the street where the path lead towards the village docks. There stood more Faunus, the largest of them a male with a barrel chest, a midnight black beard framing his face and lending to the severity of his yellow-eyed gaze. He was draped in a deep purple cloak with silver straps keeping it closed and a thin circlet wrought in gold sitting across his temples. Were it not for that one detail, she might've mistaken him for one of the Valens- he looked every bit as human as anyone else she'd met, despite his larger stature. This had to be the King of the Faunus- or the Chieftain, she supposed- and as he raised one arm that was larger than even the blonde's impressive muscle sculpture, she couldn't help but feel extremely nervous. "Who just sent Adam flying into the sea?"

"That would be my wife!" Yang proudly proclaimed, shifting to rest a hand at the small of the Atlesian's back, a comforting gesture that calmed her nerves. "May I introduce Queen Weiss of… House… Schnee."

On the one hand, she wanted to be exasperated- despite having ample practice introducing her to various clan leaders, this sort of pomp continued to elude the warrior Queen- but there was also a little charm in the way her wife's brows pinched together as the words came out, already aware she'd said the wrong thing but continuing on regardless. With a soft sigh, the Atlesian leaned closer and gently corrected her. "Queen Consort Weiss, formerly of House Schnee."

"I mean-"

"I've gathered what you meant." The large Faunus cut her off, striding down the street towards them with his entourage in tow. Every Faunus he passed lowered their heads in respect before falling into step behind him.

Immediately, she bowed in the traditional Valen manner, bending at the waist. If nothing else, she could take refuge in courtesy; these people were allies of Vale and, therefore, her childish fears were unbecoming. She would have to shove them aside for the time being… and every time subsequent. "I sincerely apologize for-"

"Apologize? I don't want an apology!" Her gaze snapped up as he stopped in front of her, his smile wide and toothy. "It's about time someone cooled that hothead off."

Dumbfounded, Weiss mechanically offered her hand, which was almost immediately engulfed in the Chieftain's larger one. He could probably easily shatter the bones but he didn't, though his grip was a great deal firmer than Yang would ever use, and she fought down the impulse to pull away and retreat. Meanwhile, her wife focused on teasing Blake, completely missing how very uncomfortable the whole situation was making the Atlesian.

"He's still giving you grief, huh?" Yang cocked her head to the side and waggled her eyebrows. "Trying to court the Princess?"

"Don't call it that, don't act like it's legitimate." The Faunus put her face in her hands, sighing heavily. "I _still_ don't know why we brought him with us."

"Because your father holds out hope he'll 'fall' over the side of the ship during a storm." A new voice added as a female Faunus approached them, feline ears sporting a few golden piercings. She, too, wore a golden crown, though far more ornate and it was difficult to tell if it was because of the ears or for some other reason. "Until the Taurus line does something worthy of expulsion from the circle, he's here to stay… once he dries off, anyway."

"Mom, please, can't we just make something up as grounds for expulsion?" Blake sighed, running a hand through her hair.

The Chieftain laughed, releasing the Atlesian's hand in favor of standing beside the smaller, exasperated Faunus. "Kali, our daughter has a point. Isn't that something we can do?"

Ignoring the pleading of her husband and daughter, Kali turned her attention to Weiss, scanning her form in a way that was very familiar, more akin to what she'd expect of a noblewoman's gaze. There was no maliciousness glinting in her eyes, though, just that same sort of amusement that was perfectly mirrored by Blake earlier. "So, this is your Atlesian bride? We've heard much about her."

The Faunus tilted her head, the large feline ears canting towards her despite addressing Yang. Then she said something in the same fluid tongue Blake had used earlier, raising a brow when Weiss didn't react.

"Cat Mom, please stop teasing my wife," the blonde said in Valen, stepping up to lightly wrap an arm around her shoulders. She had half a mind to shrug off the contact but let it remain, grateful to have something to ground her during this surreal experience. When Yang spoke again, it was in Atlesian. "Are you okay? You look really tense. I promise, they aren't here to hurt us."

The corner of her mouth twitched. She couldn't very well insult those who were obviously so close to Yang's heart and it was only a matter of time until she reacted out of ingrained habit, which would no doubt cause that very offense. There was only one course open to her. "I'll excuse myself. You'll be busy entertaining your guests."

She turned, ready to head back to the forest- no doubt the Chieftain and his family would be entertained in the tavern, like the clan leaders, but she couldn't bear facing the older Xiao Long at present- but the arm around her shoulders tightened, a rare moment when contact wasn't broken the instant she desired it. "Weiss, please talk to me. What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired, Yang." It wasn't technically a lie- her duel with Blake was exhausting, pushing herself to the limits of her admittedly limited fighting skill, and the manifestation of her semblance brought with it a shock that was seeping into her muscles- but it wasn't the whole truth, either. Regardless, it was the best excuse she could muster. "I… think I'll take a nap and join you for the evening meal."

That might be enough time, she thought. To come to grips, to reclaim her calm and poise. Sitting through one meal among those she'd always believed to be terrible creatures of legend would be… manageable, at least until she could get over her hesitations.

"That's all, huh?" Her wife frowned, lowering her gaze for a moment before looking over to the three Faunus and speaking in Valen. "Is there anything important we need to talk about?"

Blake shook her head. "We just thought we'd come congratulate you on your marriage and introduce ourselves after visiting with the Vacuon Council. We'll be here for a few days before returning to Menagerie."

"Great. We'll see you at dinner." Without giving her a chance to object, Weiss was scooped up into the blonde's arms, one arm just beneath her shoulders while the other hooked under her knees. The position reminded her just how small she was in comparison to the warrior Queen though some part of her heavily objected to the display in front of the Faunus. "Whenever Adam hauls himself onto the beach, let him know I'll deal with his complaints after we've rested."

"Provided I haven't dealt with them first," Kali replied with a slight frown, her gaze darting to the dazed boar Faunus briefly, and she inclined her head. "We look forward to seeing both of you this evening."

Blake and her father echoed the sentiment before Yang started off, heading back to their home. It was a bit unnerving, watching everyone interact in such a friendly manner after being locked in battle but, she supposed, it also explained why Atlas never stood a chance against their neighbors across the sea.

"So, are you going to tell me what's really bothering you?" They were just hitting the edge of the village proper when the blonde asked, keeping her gaze trained on the way ahead. "Because if I were to guess, there's something that's genuinely terrifying you and you don't want to tell me what it is for some reason."

Weiss bit back a curse. Of course she wouldn't be able to hide it completely, this apparently irrational fear, but she'd grown accustomed to her wife's protective streaks. Shutting her out quickly would buy her the time she needed. "You're right. There's something that bothers me and I don't want to tell you."

It hurt both of them. Yang never hid anything- her heart always worn on her sleeve for anyone to see- and this time was no different, her expression twisting into a wince, but the Atlesian was more disciplined, feigning aloofness as guilt settled in the pit of her stomach. The Faunus were allies to the blonde, and perhaps closer still; until she could react to them without the burden of her upbringing threatening to turn the situation into a diplomatic incident, it was safer to isolate herself.

"Okay. That's okay." It wasn't a lie. The blonde never lied, not to her at least, which made it all the more painful; _she_ wasn't 'okay' with Weiss not wanting to tell her, but she would accept it for the Weiss' sake. "When we get back, I'll draw you a nice, warm bath, light some of those lilac candles you like, and… hopefully, you'll feel better." The omission of Yang's presence stung. The blonde would likely remove herself from the room unless expressly invited inside to share the smaller woman's space. It was precisely what she aimed for but… it felt wrong to trick the woman into it, to hide from someone who never bothered trying to do the same. "I meant what I said earlier. I knew you could manifest your semblance."

"I have an excellent teacher," she replied, allowing her posture to relax fully and laying her head on her wife's shoulder. As much as it pained her to keep secrets, this one she would need to hold onto, because she didn't want to make things difficult for the blonde, to force her to choose between the Atlesian and the Faunus visitors. She could feel the way Yang cradled her closer, bending her head down to brush a kiss to Weiss' temple.

They remained silent for the rest of the walk.

* * *

Author's Note: I should note that, in case it didn't come across very clear, 'chi' and 'semblance' are being used as equal terms that correspond with the language being used, chi being the Valen term and semblance being the Atlesian one. Introducing suffering and cheeky Blake, you exist in this universe apparently, welcome to the party. No smooth sailing for a while; ship's still trying to leave the harbor.


	4. Foreign Relations

**Disclaimer:** Who's ready for some bullshit? Also, friendly reminder that Weiss is not always a reliable narrator. Also, I know I'm going to get flack for the events of this chapter, but there is a reason. Give it time.

* * *

Yang scanned the tavern, a small smile plastered in place as she observed the residents of Patch interacting with the Faunus merrily, drinking and singing songs. It grew so rare recently to see their allies from Menagerie that every trip turned into a party, and that applied both ways, although she personally hadn't set foot in the other kingdom in years. First the civil war, then the war against Atlas, and then negotiating the truce and arranging the marriage- she'd been busy, but she often thought about when she might see her friend again.

She just wished she could actually enjoy Blake's presence now.

The Faunus sat beside her, as per their usual. With the exception of the evening meal the night before, they'd always sat side-by-side, usually joking and teasing. While the blonde never imagined she'd end up in such a prestigious position among her people, Blake knew she'd one day take her mother's place as Chieftain of the Faunus, and sometimes the levity would help lighten her friend's mood whenever she started getting overwhelmed by the scope of her future responsibilities. Recently, they both needed the break from the seriousness of the world, but tonight was an exception.

It was a strange time indeed when Yang Xiao Long felt no desire to joke, no gentle teasing falling from her lips throughout the meal, and it didn't go unnoticed. Even from across the table, she could see her father's worried expression flashing her way every now and again, brows creased and lips drawn into a frown. Although he'd done his level best to remain scarce the past two months, Taiyang knew his daughter better than anyone and the blonde's attempt at appearing normal would never rival Weiss'. Throughout the night before, her wife seemed poised and collected, polite as ever, attentive to every question directed her way and making small talk with whoever engaged her. No one thought anything was amiss.

But Yang liked to think she'd grown more attuned to the woman's moods and she sensed something was off, aside from the Atlesian's refusal to divulge whatever plagued her mind after the Faunus' arrival. It lurked just behind those blue eyes, somehow lacking their usual shine as she sat at the blonde's left, posture as ramrod straight as the night of their wedding. Even if the woman still carried herself rigidly in comparison to everyone else, she'd relaxed in recent weeks, the slope of her shoulders a gentle curve rather than a straight line, and she often smiled proudly behind her mug whenever they ate now that she'd mastered using chopsticks.

"That's the first real smile I've seen since yesterday," Blake said, pulling her attention away from her musings. "Want to share?"

"I was just thinking of my wife." She'd done her best not to let on that she was watching during those moments when Weiss stole her attention completely. The Atlesian looked downright cute when she was proud with another task accomplished or a new skill learned, like when she'd become familiar with writing the most basic Valen characters. Honestly, her own penmanship was chicken scratch in comparison and she'd never forget the way her wife had lit up when she'd said as much. It was quickly covered with a chiding remark about improving her skill rather than bragging about poor performance, but not quickly enough for her to miss. "I'm a married woman now, Blakey. Aren't those books you read always going on about how much someone thinks about their spouse or lover or whatever?"

"Hmmm, the Queen Consort, yes." The Faunus mused, ignoring the bait to defend her choices in literature in favor of casting a glance around, motioning with her nearly empty cup. Unlike the Valens, all the Faunus chose to drink their 'special tea'; Menagerie relied on their network of spies to keep tabs on the other nations, especially during the period of rebuilding after their own civil war, and one of their favored tricks was a very specific blend of tea leaves and wild berries native to their land that had the most curious effect when drank. Somewhere between being high on opium and drunk on wine, it loosened tongues, eventually lulled the target to sleep, and it ultimately served to deliver many precious secrets to the Chieftain's ears. Most Faunus built up an immunity themselves, or at least a resistance, for that very purpose, which made it an easy drink for any meal. Humans, on the other hand, could have _very_ bad reactions, and Yang would never forget her own experience with the stuff as she swirled her own preferred liquid around its mug. "No wonder she's on your mind. Is she not joining us this evening?"

"She's… not feeling well," Yang replied, occupying herself with her mug and taking a long pull of the rice wine. She wasn't in the mood for alcohol, though, so she only tasted sharp bitterness that made her regret drinking in the first place. If she kept going at this pace, it would likely make her a foul drunk, like her Uncle tended to get when he was deep in his cups. She set the mug down and left it alone entirely, not wanting to even be tempted; it certainly wouldn't make things better. "I had someone take her food."

Ears perked and brow raised, the impending question was obvious. "You didn't do it yourself?"

Hiding things from Blake was nigh impossible, something she'd temporarily forgotten. Puffing out a mirthless chuckle, she shook her head. "Weiss… doesn't want to see me right now."

From the corner of her eye, she could see the look being sent her way. Obviously, her friend had put that much together already. "Any idea why?"

"Nope." Sighing, the blonde sank slightly, nearly curling in on herself in misery. "Absolutely _none_."

She'd done what she could to find out, of course. The day before, she drew the Atlesian a warm bath filled with her favorite scent and left her in peace. Her presence wasn't wanted right then and she… understood, so she washed herself in the nearby stream, ignoring the way the cold wind bit at her skin while she hurried to dress in fresh clothes and return to the house. When Weiss was done, the blonde brought her meat and cheese- although they tasted slightly different than those of Atlas, it was a meal closer to what the woman ate back home and required no chopsticks to eat- and a tall glass of water, then helped her into bed. Yang didn't press or pry, concerning herself _only_ with making sure her wife was comfortable, and she was seemingly rewarded when, instead of being sent away, she was invited into the bed, curling around the smaller woman as she usually did. Sleep wouldn't come to her- a combination of worry and excitement keeping her wide awake- so she contented herself with watching Weiss drift into a light slumber. Opening the pathway to one's chi and drawing it out the first time often depleted a lot of energy, so Yang wasn't surprised, and she looked forward to teaching her wife to draw it out more frequently, making the process easier overall. When the Atlesian awoke, she thought maybe whatever was bothering the woman remained sleeping and they could talk about it later. The rest of the day went off well enough, even if she still had her doubts that Weiss was truly alright.

That morning, though, was a different story. Her wife didn't want to leave the bed when they awoke… but she didn't want the blonde to stay, either. There was an excuse of lingering exhaustion and she didn't buy it for a second, yet any attempt at further conversation once Yang got out of bed was met with either silence or clipped, one word replies, until she'd reached the end of her rope.

"Is there anything you _do_ want?" Her frustration had colored her tone a very small amount as she silently pleaded with whichever Maiden might be listening to give her _some_ clue as to what to do or say.

"Leave," her wife had replied in the same cold, stiff, formal tone she'd used during the brief instances she'd spoken during their wedding. It was like the past two months hadn't happened and they were strangers once more. "See to your guests. That's all I ask."

All the air fled her lungs after hearing those words. Being effectively banished from the Atlesian's presence was one thing; being sent away in such an efficient manner, as if her presence meant nothing… it hurt. It almost made her frustration boil over into anger.

But she'd complied. Yang didn't understand it- couldn't, not without help, and the one person who could provide such assistance apparently didn't want to speak to her- but she honored the request all the same. The thoughts preyed on her mind, though, mentally pouring over everything she did and said, trying to find her error. Was it failing to mention the mock battle? In hindsight, taking the time to explain the situation instead of being so excited to see the Faunus again would've been better, of course, but surely that oversight would result in a chiding lecture, not an outright rejection. Weiss didn't like open affection- or, perhaps, hadn't yet grown accustomed to it, as odd as that sounded to the blonde- so maybe that was it. Did the Atlesian feel as though Yang embarrassed her when she picked up the smaller woman like she weighed nothing? It was a combination of joy, excitement, pride, and her chi still invigorating her muscles, not a conscious attempt to upset her. Weiss wouldn't hold _that_ against her… right?

"What did I do?" The blonde turned a pleading look towards her best friend, hoping that maybe she'd gleaned some hidden knowledge during her years perusing romance novels from all over Remnant. She'd always brushed them off as silly; her father followed his heart, and though it brought him pain, it also brought him the greatest happiness he would ever find and he'd said so himself, so what could some book possibly teach her that her heart couldn't?

Moments like this, though, she wished she'd taken Blake up on her offers to borrow one or two over the years.

"I don't think you _did_ anything." The Faunus sat back, crossing her arms over her chest as her lips pressed into a thin line. "I have a hunch it's something completely unrelated."

Lilac eyes met troubled amber and nothing could keep her from asking. "Well, what is it? What can I do? How do I fix this?"

" _You_ don't. I don't think you _can…_ but you should be there anyway." Blake got up, stretching her lower back for a moment after being seated so long. "Come on, let's go see if I'm right."

Yang sprang to her feet, eagerly following one step behind her friend as they traveled the length of the tavern, and she shot her dad a look to warn him that they weren't to be followed. No one would think twice about the two of them heading off together and no Valen would think she needed an escort of any sort but the Faunus were rather protective of the Chieftain and her family. They weren't heading off on one of their ill advised adventures, though, all smiles and mischief; no, this felt more like heading into a battle, her chi thrumming through every muscle in anticipation. Ever since feeling the ice cold of her wife's pushing back against hers yesterday in the clearing, it was becoming harder to control her own. It kept trying to reach out and find that pressure that was only possible when close to Weiss, which… would have to be addressed, sooner rather than later.

First thing's first, though. They walked silently up to the house, the Faunus leading the way for the most part until they'd entered the clearing and they both stopped. "Go sit beneath the kitchen window."

"What? Why?"

"Because I want you to listen," Blake said, expression turning serious. "And _just_ listen. I mean it, Yang; don't move, don't talk, don't react. Just listen while I talk to Weiss."

"Are you going to tell her I'm there?" The idea of eavesdropping on her wife didn't sit well with the blonde. She wanted to know what was wrong- of course she did- but compromising the woman's trust in her… she wasn't _that_ desperate, at least not yet. However, she reluctantly admitted that subterfuge _was_ the Faunus' forte, and the chief reason Menagerie managed to avoid open war with Vacuo. Kali was nothing short of a talented spymaster and won most of her battles with words rather than brute force.

Idly, Yang wished Blake had taken more after her father; Ghira shared her mindset of tackling problems head on and personally.

"No, but…" The Faunus turned towards her fully, ears drooping as she spoke earnestly. "Just trust me. If I'm right, Weiss will forgive a little dishonesty. I'm sure of it." Yang hesitated still and not for lack of faith in her best friend. It didn't seem right or fair, and she was a hair's breadth away from saying as much when a hand was offered towards her. "You made me do this. Settle a debt."

Instantly, her eyes lit up as her anger surged, expression changing in the blink of an eye to fully display her rage. There was no more sacred a tenet the Valens kept than the honoring of debts, though it was rarely taken in a financial sense. This sort of debt was paid in unquestionable trust for a considerable favor and while she normally wouldn't hesitate to follow through, _this_ matter was different. "Blake!"

"Yang." She shook her hand for emphasis, still offering it out. "Settle. A debt."

With a growl, the blonde clasped her friend's wrist, narrowing her eyes when fingers wrapped around her own. "You've only got two of those left, you know."

"As many times as you get yourself into trouble, I'll make it back," the Faunus replied, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips. "You're to sit beneath the kitchen window and not do anything to indicate you're there. I just want you to listen."

"Fine." Releasing their hold, she stormed to the indicated spot without another look back. Despite how absolutely _wrong_ it was for Blake to pull this stunt, she couldn't very well go against it; not only would it be a direct insult to their friendship, it would go against the principles she held dear. Unable to refuse, she plopped down beneath the window, crossed her arms and legs, and flared her chi to keep warm, all the while considering reorganizing her priorities in life. The descending night turned colder by the second but the darkness couldn't match her mood. At the earliest opportunity, she swore she'd give Adam tips on wooing her friend.

Not because they'd work, of course; she'd ensure he only got information that would _annoy_ Blake the most. That seemed a suitable retribution for being strong armed into this unsavory position.

Her attention snapped away from her frustration with the dirty trick to the sound of the window's latch, glancing up to see her friend push open the panes. With the barrier removed, she could hear more clearly the soft sounds of cupboards being opened and eventually water being poured into the kettle. She couldn't help but roll her eyes; _of course_ the Faunus would make tea.

Well, at least _one_ of them would have something good come out of this.

Grumpily sitting beneath the window, the blonde waited until she heard the water begin boiling, shoulders jumping slightly as Blake's careful movements turned a tad chaotic. She opened and closed cupboards loudly, stomped her feet with every step, ensured the cups clattered when they were set down- the times her friend was this deliberately loud in her memory could be counted on one hand.

But, it did the trick.

"Oh, good, you came down," the Faunus said, a smile in her voice. Despite being an accomplished warrior in her own right, Blake could be disarmingly charming when the situation called for it. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you, Princess." Yang frowned. Her wife's reply was stiff and formal, born purely from her upbringing, and the hint of uneasiness lingered. What had her so afraid? "Where's Queen Yang?"

She winced at the impersonal, formal title. Weiss _never_ called her that, not even when parting from her family back at Fort Beacon. Why use it now?

"Formalities _are_ a bigger custom in Atlas, I suppose, but there's no need for it here." The gentle clatter of cups being placed on saucers- obviously belonging to the set Blake brought from Menagerie years ago- and a bit of shuffling. "You can call me Blake. That is, _if_ you can look me in the eye."

Somehow, that managed to sidestep the question as to the blonde's whereabouts. "I'm trying to be polite."

"You're trying to ensure your soul won't get stolen," the Faunus replied, pausing for a moment. "At least, I _think_ that's how your legends go, right? Never look a _Wolpertinger_ in the eye, lest your soul gets snatched from your body?"

The Atlesian word in the middle of smooth Valen made Yang blink, turning her head to peer up at the window. She could recognize the syllables, mouthing the word herself to see how they fit together, but couldn't place its definition. She hadn't seen or heard it while learning Weiss' language. Was it the Atlesian word for 'Faunus'?

"H-how do you know that-"

"You've seen my father. Not all Faunus have obvious traits." The clink of cup and saucer being set down, followed by cloth rustling. "And those of us who do?" Without looking, Yang could picture what was happening; Blake showed her a time or two how she managed to travel inconspicuously across Vale and Vacuo during the wars. A simple length of black ribbon, when wrapped just right, could obscure her ears, hiding her heritage from view. A clever person with an exact idea of whom they sought might see through the trick but, for the most part, it worked quite well. "There. Tell me. If you saw me on the streets of your capitol city, would you think twice about my heritage? Or pass me off as another face in the crowd?" There was a lilt to her voice, a sort of begrudging pride she adopted when talking about her people's unfortunate habits developed to circumvent superstitions. "Menagerie has long relied on our easily hidden merchants to get around the trade embargo Atlas levied against us and we are _very_ good at it." The hush of the ribbon being pulled free signaled that she'd started winding it about her forearm, where it usually hid. "We're also well aware of what Atlesians think of us. Demons of the night, child eaters, abominations of nature- the tales are rather colorful."

Yang started up at the open window in abject confusion and slight horror. Who would spread such lies about the Faunus? The people of Menagerie were just as friendly as any other- when at peace and unified under a strong leader- and they certainly weren't any of the things being described- who came up with these lies?

"But, obviously untrue."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Blake reclaimed her cup. "You won't turn your back to me, or any Faunus, and you won't look us in the eye. If possible, you stay beyond arm's reach. And you're hiding cloves of garlic in your pocket- which doesn't actually keep us away, mind, though the smell can be unpleasant when it's so strong." A pause long enough for a sip. "You're terrified of us."

"Yes, I am," Weiss replied, a tightness in her voice.

The blonde's shoulders slumped as she leaned back against the wall of the house. How had she not noticed that? The garlic was easy to explain- her nose wasn't nearly as sensitive, of course- but the rest… perhaps her focus was so intent, she hadn't looked at the bigger picture like her friend obviously had. Still, she'd _known_ her wife was afraid of something, had asked… how could she not have seen the obvious answer?

Probably because it would never occur to her. How could anyone perpetuate such lies about people? Such barefaced hate was rare, even among the warriors she'd faced over the years, but for it to be _taught_ to children. Why? Just… just _why?_

"That's it? No justifying tirade about how you were raised to think that way, how it's not your fault- anything?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm in Vale now- this is my home, which makes us allies and your people are obviously not the monsters mine have painted them as." It broke Yang's heart a little to hear the slight tremor in the Atlesian's voice. She wanted to stand up- was Weiss about to cry? Was she angry? Was she ashamed? There was no way to tell without looking, because what her voice refused to betray her eyes always would- but remained seated. The blonde had to abide by her friend's wishes but she could feel the pressure of tears threatening to spill, from frustration and worry both. "My irrational fear… it's a hindrance."

"It matters to Yang." Blake's tone softened just a little. "She's worried about you. She thinks it's something she's done that has you upset."

"She _would_ think that." A sigh, followed by a small, mirthless chuckle. "I don't think there's anything I can do that won't worry her."

"True. I used to tease her that I already have two overprotective parents- I _don't_ need another one." The Faunus' laugh was warm with fond remembrance, even if the last time she'd said that was a bitter memory. Still, Yang couldn't keep the corner of her mouth from tugging into a small smile. Those were simpler times. "But I still don't see why you didn't tell her. She wouldn't begrudge you a learned prejudice, especially when you're making attempts to be… cordial." Weiss must've raised a brow in askance. "You _are_ carrying garlic cloves."

"Fair point." A rustle of fabric and the pantry door opening tipped her off to what was going on inside. "I… I owe you an apology."

"And that's a debt I'd rather you keep a little longer." Blake approached the window, leaning against the counter as the night wind blew. "You were raised to fear us. It's not fair to expect you to just _get over_ that in the course of a day. What you've accomplished already is enough progress."

"I interpret that as 'wait until I mean it'."

"Well, if we're being honest." Yang narrowed her eyes, faintly picking up her wife's soft tread as it drew closer to the window. There was a faint, amused huff from the Faunus, and she guessed they were probably standing side-by-side admiring the view. With the half moon rising over the trees, it promised to be a beautiful night, but she felt pressure weighing down on her heart and shoulders.

Why hadn't she done more research? After the misunderstandings they've already had, why didn't she dig through every scrap of information she could find to ensure it wouldn't happen again?

Leaning her head back, she looked up at the underside of the window sill, a frown tugging at her lips.

She needed to do better. For Weiss' sake.

"You know… as much as you fear us… I noticed you're actually not _that_ scared whenever Yang's around."

The blonde perked up, listening intently.

"Yang promised she'd protect me. I trust her to keep her word." Stunned, Yang's breath caught in her throat as her eyes widened. She keenly remembered the odd sensation of walking around with a sword on her hip- something the warrior had long ago discarded out of distaste- but for that week she was _proud_ to have the thin rapier strapped to her. It was a sign they could be together, that she might be a good match for the Atlesian or, at the very least, that she had a chance to prove herself as worthy. Here, though, was the first verbal acknowledgement for that trust being truly given to her, placed willingly in a promise she'd made. It also explained how Blake was able to observe the Atlesian's reactions while she couldn't; just being there provided some modicum of comfort to her wife. "And since we're being honest… I probably wouldn't be as calm if another Faunus came here looking for me, but Yang trusts you. I can at least be… courteous."

She shifted, hands resting on her knees to keep them in place as she fought the urge to stand. There it was, that hint of melancholy in her wife's tone. Something _still_ wasn't right.

"You don't seem happy about that."

A heavy sigh that sounded more tired than despondent escaped her wife's lips. "I stayed away today to avoid offending you and your family. The last thing I want to do is make things difficult for Yang… but it seems I've done that anyway. Both things." Yang's brows furrowed, pulling away from the wall while keeping her eyes up toward the window. Why did the woman sound so… lethargic? Weiss was always attentive, her words crisp and pointed; at present, she seemed like she was struggling to stay awake. "Tell me… if Atlas had never attacked Vale, if Yang hadn't accepted the offer of an arranged marriage to end the war… would you have married her?"

"Me? And Yang?" A pause, a cough, and some awkward shuffling; the blonde could vividly picture the blush rising in the Faunus' cheeks. "Well, I can't say it _hasn't_ crossed my mind. We've known each other for years, we're good friends, she's a wonderful person… I don't think my parents would object. But, I don't think it's ever occurred to Yang."

"… hasn't it?" In all honesty, it hadn't. Blake was her best friend, yes, but she'd never thought of the Faunus in a romantic light. If anything, they felt more like sisters than potential lovers; they'd fought beside each other, traveled across Vale and Menagerie, and through the years cultivated a deep and intimate relationship together, but not in _that_ way. "Yang's sweet. She's passionate. Most importantly, she cares about you… if you had asked, she wouldn't have said no and you wouldn't have regretted it. She's… she's a very good wife."

"You're not wrong about any of that." There was some shuffling, and a cup clinking against a saucer. "Does that bother you?"

Carefully, Yang shifted to her knees, trying to make as little noise as possible. Blake would be able to hear her, of course, but the Atlesian wouldn't, which meant she was abiding by the rules thus far. Yet, she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to remain silent. She had a right to speak for herself, especially on this topic.

Weiss had a point; if asked, she probably _wouldn't_ have refused. If it was something the Faunus truly wanted to pursue, however, her opportunity to do so closed the moment Yang spoke her vows at Fort Beacon and traded Ember Celica for Myrtenaster. The Atlesian didn't put as much stock in the Valen traditions, true, but _she_ did, and she would hold herself to them until her dying breath. If there was _any_ doubt lingering in her wife's mind, it was her duty to put them to rest immediately.

"I didn't think it would. I'm Atlesian and we… have different views on such things, marriages and the like." Her voice lowered slightly, the sound of her cup and saucer being set down. There was a strange, scratchy quality to her voice now, like she was fighting back a yawn or a sneeze. Perhaps tears? "But it does. A little. It's why I couldn't tell her the truth- that I'm simply afraid, it's… unbecoming. It's easy for you to say she wouldn't hold it against me; you've known her for so much longer… you know her so much better than I. In the past two months, what have I shown?" Her voice turned wistful but still carried a sad undertone. "I couldn't fight. I couldn't harness my chi. I can't even keep her from worrying over me- how am I supposed to tell her this? That her best friend terrifies me? That allies she holds dear make me want to balk, to turn and run- how can I tell her I'm a coward? In Atlas, it wouldn't matter; my personal failings would be overlooked due to my station and my spouse would simply… well. Supplement."

"Oh?" Blake paused, most likely taking a sip of her tea before gracelessly setting it on the saucer loudly, the clinking betraying her surprise. " _Oh_."

"Does that make me selfish? Yang's been nothing short of supportive and patient- am I wrong to begrudge her this?" Yang grit her teeth, her frustration mounting. Weiss sounded genuinely upset, which was rare, and it was somehow in regards to _her_. How long would her friend expect her to keep to these ridiculous stipulations? "In Atlas, I would be. I have no right-"

"You said it yourself; you're not _in_ Atlas." The Faunus was quick to cut her off. "This is Vale, and they keep very different views on marriages. I'm reasonably certain it would never cross Yang's mind to take a mistress."

"A mistress?" Yang couldn't help but say the word aloud, softly, brows pinching in confusion. She could remember hearing it once or twice before from some of the clan leaders but always with a sense of derision and never an explanation. She hadn't thought to ask- why would she?- but now she cursed her ignorance.

"In fact, I'm _confident_ it's never occurred to her. She's just not the sort to be unfaithful," Blake said, setting aside her cup and saucer. "It might be common practice in Atlas to marry only for political gain and take lovers on the side, but not in Vale." Her voice took on a sharper edge. "And not in Menagerie, either. Your people may be terrified of mine, and we may be understandably wary of yours, but I would never put Yang in the position of choosing between us. I'm not here to steal your wife, Weiss."

There was a bitter chuckle that made the blonde's gut clench. "Of course not. Too noble, in a truer sense than my people ever used the word. I was raised to think of the people of Vytal as uncivilized barbarians, of your people as demons and monsters, but the longer I spend outside the borders of Atlas, the more I begin to see the truth." A sigh, a sniffle. " _I'm_ the barbarian, the monster."

That was _enough_. The blonde stood, turning so she could level a very clear glare into the kitchen. Weiss didn't see her- her head was down, eyes riveted to the counter as her shoulders shook- but the Faunus certainly could. No words were needed as she nodded, holding both hands up in a placating gesture with her gaze darting towards the entrance. Without further prompting, and very disinclined to abide any discouragement anyway, Yang walked to the front of the house while barely managing to not stomp her way there, throwing the door open and heading straight for the kitchen. The moment she was in the room, the scent of the tea hit her and it struck some memory that she shoved aside, lilac eyes falling on her wife's form.

"Weiss," she said, the forceful tone tempered by softness as she took a few steps forward with both arms outstretched, fighting against her first impulse to immediately wrap her arms around the smaller woman's form. When last they parted, the Atlesian had pushed her away, and to her mind nothing had changed; approaching now- without express permission- would be wrong of her. It galled her, though, that she'd let things go this far and she spared a brief glare at Blake for forcing her into this position in the first place.

The moment her wife turned, the blonde was reluctantly glad she hadn't, because her chi flared the instant she could see the woman's face. Her eyes were glazed over and there was a rosy tint to her cheeks; she was obviously keeping a hand on the counter for support as she unsteadily swayed. Blood red eyes shot to Blake, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

Not that she needed one; it clicked almost instantly.

"I _think_ I made the tea too strong." The Faunus weakly offered, ears laying back in contrition.

" _BLAKE!_ " The blonde took a single step towards her friend- whose title was rather dubious at present- before a slim hand landed on her forearm, halting her movements.

"Yang, don't." Weiss shook her head, likely trying to get her bearings, but the motion did nothing to dispel the tears gathering in her eyes. "My… tea was drugged, I'm aware, I…" The Atlesian tried to take a step forward but her balance faltered. Worried, the blonde rushed forward, catching her wife and carefully supporting her with an arm around her shoulders, noticing the thin sheen of sweat building on the woman's pale brow. "I just… didn't expect…"

"It's okay, Snowfall, shush." Throwing one more heated glare at Blake, Yang turned her entire attention to guiding her wife's trembling form out of the kitchen. She would need to put the woman to bed immediately and try to break her fever before she got delirious. "You need to save your energy."

"I'm… fine…" She tried to stand on her own power but faltered again, her legs too weak as the tea robbed her of strength.

Obviously, simply helping the woman stand wouldn't cut it, so the blonde bent her knees and scooped Weiss into her arms, cradling her close as weak hands clutched at the material of her shirt. Even through the layers between them and her chi thrumming through every fiber of her being, the Atlesian felt warm in comparison, hinting at the strength of her fever. "She's burning up."

"I-I'll get my parents," Blake said, a tremor in her voice as her ears laid back. "They'll know what to do."

"Hurry," she replied, carefully carrying her wife out of the kitchen and up the stairs, shouldering the bedroom door open and silently thanking whatever deity might be listening that it was left ajar. She quickly tucked her wife in beneath the covers, running a hand through sweat slicked bangs; it worried her how quickly Weiss' body temperature rose, still seeming far too warm to the touch and, through ingrained habit, the blonde bent over and pressed her lips to the woman's forehead to confirm the strength of her fever. When she pulled away, lilac eyes scanned over her wife's form, tucking in the covers tighter. "Weiss, I'm _so_ sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have let Blake do that, I should've stopped her, I-" Apologizing did neither of them any good at present but the words fell from her lips regardless as she left the bed, seeking more blankets to lay over top the woman and a rag for her forehead. All the while, she muttered to herself, every dumb decision she'd ever made that landed her in the Faunus' debt. "This is my fault. I should've- what's _wrong_ with me?"

When Yang returned, she set the blanket on the bed and started folding the dampened rag only to notice that something had changed; her wife looked paler than before and her shivering had worsened. The blonde reached over, fear gripping tight as her fingertips once again brushed through the woman's white fringe, and a worried gasp escaped her lips. Where before Weiss had felt warm even to _her_ touch, now she was cold as ice. Both hands went to cup pale cheeks, her thumbs working in small circles to rub some color back into the skin.

"Weiss? Snowfall, can you hear me?" Her wife made a small noise but she couldn't tell if it was an acknowledgement of her question or just a vocalization of the agony of her now frigid body temperature. Either way, she became distracted almost immediately by the presence she could feel pushing back against her palms, strong and insistent. Relief flooded through her; while most warriors focused their chi to heal from grievous wounds, some could also use theirs to filter out poisons and toxins from their system. It seemed Weiss had the capability of doing so naturally, or at least subconsciously, her own chi flaring in response. She bent down and brushed a soft kiss against the woman's forehead. "You'll be okay, Snowfall. Just rest. I'll-"

"Wha- wait." She froze, watching as blue eyes fluttered open briefly before her wife closed them again. Leaning forward so she could hear better, the blonde waited for whatever Weiss had to say between her stuttering breaths. "C-come."

Yang frowned, her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out what that meant. "Come… closer? I can hear you, Snowfall, what do you need?" Weiss groaned and shifted as much as her weakened form allowed. The blonde quickly reached out, setting her hands on the woman's shoulders and urging her to be still. She'd need her strength while her chi purged the tea from her system. Her wife's chi hummed in response, no longer pushing against hers but rather… pulling? "Do you… do you want me to come under the covers with you?"

Through an apparent supreme force of will, Weiss opened her eyes and nodded weakly before her strength failed her again, her body going limp while the blonde hurried to kick off her boots. Slipping beneath the sheets, Yang scooted over, mentally trying to map out what would be most comfortable for her infirm wife when the decision was made for her; the Atlesian managed to turn onto her side and immediately curled up, weakly reaching out and tugging her closer. She obliged until she could wrap one arm around Weiss' smaller frame, her chin resting in white locks as the shivering began to slow. The woman felt like a block of solid ice, freezing to the touch, but Yang was a roaring inferno in comparison, ignoring any discomfort in favor of holding the Atlesian as gently as possible.

Whenever Blake got back, they were going to have some _words_.

"Please be alright." She whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Weiss' head. " _Please,_ just be okay."

* * *

Author's Note: To everyone asking about potential other ships, I'm just gonna say this: even if other ships appear, they won't be featured enough within the story proper to warrant being tagged as such. They might get mentioned or hinted at, but due to the limited POVs and time period (i.e., no instant communication) showcasing them in any meaningful way would detract from the story I want to tell. Many of the characters are spread out across the world and their interactions are going to be somewhat limited until we get further into the story; not saying that other ships won't be featured at all, but I wouldn't want anyone getting their hopes up on long and involved scenes developing other relationships not directly tied to the plot, Weiss, or Yang.


	5. Recovery

**Disclaimer:** And so the path to recovery begins and it's not exactly short, in the broad sense. Get ready to beat this tea thing to death. Also, pray for my computer; it's apparently rebelling against me and has decided to shut itself off a few times. Blasted thing needs to live a little longer.

* * *

Time stretched and thinned, indecipherable outside of the sensations plaguing her. She could only tell that it passed at all by vague snatches of a kind voice muttering in her ear as she shifted violently between extremes; one moment, her body was on fire, the heat stifling and consuming, and the next she was colder than even the tallest windswept peak of the northern most mountains in Atlas. Weiss grit her teeth, barely managing to remain conscious, though she ultimately couldn't be sure she _was_ aware of her surroundings at all, the lines between reality and manifestations of her imagination blurred together. At some points, it felt like she'd been plunged into the coldest winter, with only the familiar heat of her wife's chi to stave off a freezing death, and then at others her own chi spread through every fiber of her being to keep the overwhelming heat from burning her alive. She shuddered, curling in on herself and remaining dimly aware of hands smoothing down her back or threading through her sweat slicked hair.

There were poisons that granted kinder fates than this, she mused idly as the extremes abated for just a moment, gifting her with a small reprieve of coherency. The Atlesian couldn't feign surprise, though, at how it all turned out; she'd tasted something different when she took the first sip, something that went down far too smooth given the absence of sugar or milk. The lack of a hard bite to the strong tea warned that it wouldn't be what she anticipated and, after a few minutes, a heady sensation akin to the sway of alcohol began affecting her senses. She hadn't objected- continued drinking, even- partially to preserve the tentative, mutual respect between herself and Blake, and if she truly wished to remain in good standing with Yang and her Faunus allies, she would likely need to get used to their customary drink.

But it was too strong, and soon she lost control. Of the rampant thoughts swirling around her head, of the words tumbling from her mouth, and finally her own body, collapsing in a useless heap into the blonde's arms while poorly trying to justify her actions. The Warrior Queen was _livid_ , then and now, her tone betraying the rage burning bright enough to renew the Atlesian's sweating, nearly forcing her to pull away from the warmth before her ice cold chi enveloped her once more to shield her from the worst of it.

"This crossed a _line_ , Blake." The blonde's voice held a dangerous edge, the arm wrapped around her waist flexing subtly, as if it took conscious effort to keep it where it was. "I never would've agreed if you'd told me in the first place, debt or not."

"I was _just_ trying to get her to relax; I didn't mean to take things this far." There was a warble in the Faunus' voice, as if she was on the verge of tears. It could've been anger to match Yang's tone but the genuine distress that seemed almost palpable heavily discounted that possibility. "I'm _sorry_ , Yang- I don't know what else I can say-"

" _She's_ the one you should be apologizing to, and we'll be lucky if she forgives either one of us!"

The warmth that she'd clung to throughout her dance with consciousness shifted and she reacted immediately, fingers reaching for any purchase available to keep her wife from leaving. There was no conscious thought to accompany the action, just an instinctual understanding that, as long as Yang stayed close, she'd survive the whole ordeal. As long as she was there, the Atlesian would be safe. A small whimper escaped her throat, the kind that would normally embarrass her to utter in the presence of others, but it effectively brought the room to silence, which was good in her opinion; the noise, even of hushed conversation, made her head pound all the harder.

"Weiss?" Cracking open her eyes and mentally cursing how bright the room seemed, the Atlesian looked up into concerned lilac orbs that had only recently returned to their normal color, vestiges of crimson remaining near the iris. The blonde was using her left arm to prop herself up and address those beyond the bed but remained on her side with her right arm around the smaller woman's waist. It spoke of… protectiveness, if she could put a word to it. "Can you hear me?"

While her voice was softer this time around, the undercurrent of anger and despair lingered, forcing Weiss to try sitting up. Not that her body cooperated, her limbs seemingly made of lead and unresponsive. "Y-yes."

Her vision blurred but she could make out how the woman's shoulders dropped in relief though her expression pinched together. "I'm _so_ sorry, Weiss. I swear, I didn't- I _shouldn't_ have let this happen, I know but- I just-"

"Yang," she said, mustering her strength to look at her wife, noting how the blonde seemed to tense up again. "Stop talking."

Immediately, the warrior opened her mouth- either to agree or argue, though she suspected the former- but clicked it shut without a word escaping, merely nodding her assent. Her gaze darted away, as if contemplating removing herself from the bed and likely the room, but Weiss had enough strength to lightly tug on the woman's shirt, discouraging that thought. Once the worst of her sickness passed, she would explain herself fully, but until then she could only hope what little she managed to accomplish would keep heads cool. This little escapade- although troublesome to a degree- didn't warrant something as drastic as war, and while she wouldn't normally suspect the blonde inclined to such measures, it remained difficult to tell sometimes. She'd read something about the Valen custom of paying one's debts, and how refusing could be the ultimate sign of disrespect, so for Yang to imply she'd toss aside such a well regarded tradition for her sake… she remembered that moment in the clearing, how genuinely worried the warrior Queen had been at the thought of Weiss going into battle and the fury that had overtaken her when confronted with her father's methods of child rearing their first night together. It really didn't seem too far-fetched to think the blonde would defend her with physical means if necessary, even if that meant turning a blade on a friend.

But Yang would regret it in time, she thought, so the best course of action was to do what she could to keep the woman's anger from boiling over. Keeping her still, silent, and allowing her to brood might not be the best method, but it _was_ the only one available to her at the moment.

"Your Majesty." Recognizing Blake's voice, she turned, putting a hand on her wife's arm to encourage her to allow the movement but not wanting to break contact completely. While not in the full throes of her fever at present, the heat radiating from Yang's body seemed to keep her own chill in check. Much to her chagrin, they were not alone in the room; while she was aware Blake had to be there as well, she didn't expect to see the Faunus' parents standing by the door with Taiyang, the older generation of royalty observing the scene with trepidation. Any thought spared to her poor reaction to the Menagerian tea, and the lack of privacy regarding it, was quickly brushed aside as her gaze fell on Blake, the Princess taking a step towards the side of the bed before placing her right hand over her heart and dropping down to her right knee. "Please, accept my humblest apologies for my thoughtlessness. I am indebted to you and I swear to honor that debt whenever called upon."

The words themselves were Valen, but the gestures Atlesian in nature- a knight or lesser lord pledging loyalty. It unnerved her, to some degree, how much of her former kingdom's customs were known to the Faunus when so many Atlesians thought them creatures of myth. She almost thought she'd imagined the cat ears atop her head earlier, Blake's countenance curiously absent of the appendages, but upon further inspection- her vision clearing for an all too brief moment- she realized that they were simply blending into the ebony of her hair, laid back in contrition.

"Rise," she said, pleased that her voice seemed stronger and waiting until she could see amber eyes before continuing. "I will hold you in debt… and I accept your apology." Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the energy she'd regained during her bout of unconsciousness draining quickly as she tried to force a smile. "Just… don't serve me tea again… please."

It was meant as a joke- her attempt at making light of the situation- but that didn't seem to go over well with anyone else, unfortunately.

"Of course," the Faunus replied with a frown twitching at her lips, bowing low before straightening and shifting her her attention to the blonde. "The Queen will need more rest to recover but she should be past the worst of it." Her confidence flagged towards the end, looking over her shoulder towards her parents. It was difficult to tell if that stemmed from a lack of experience with negative reactions to the tea or perhaps the weight of Yang's smoldering gaze upon her. "Right?"

"Yes, she's out of the woods, so to speak." Blake's mother approached, setting a hand on her daughter's shoulder and smiling. "But a day's rest will be good for her health."

At the very mention of more sleep, her body seemed to make the decision for her, eyes falling closed as she tried to turn back towards Yang. With gentle hands, her wife helped, returning the smaller woman to her right side and ensuring she was comfortable before settling down herself. Something about the way the warrior continued to shift indicated that Yang wouldn't find sleep easily, even as the others ushered themselves out of the room and turned out the lights.

"Yang?" Forcing her eyes open again, she looked up, the room plunged into the darkness of the night. Still, she could see the moonlight catching in lilac, just enough of the glow present to make out the frown on her wife's face. "Get some sleep." Her eyes fell shut, a sigh passing through her lips. "Everything… will be fine."

The tender, reverential kiss pressed against her forehead spoke of the woman's lingering hesitations, but Weiss couldn't properly focus on them as her consciousness slipped away, returning her to the realm of slumber.

* * *

The brightness of the room registered even through her eyelids- something that might've made her wince the previous time she awoke. Her head ached, a dull throb radiating through her skull, but it didn't seem to be caused by the sunlight no doubt streaming through the window, warming her back in a way that her wife wasn't at present. Her brows furrowed, worry rising as she reached out blindly and found the space Yang previously occupied empty and cold. Although some of the lethargy remained, opening her eyes did enough to invigorate tired muscles, allowing her to slowly push herself up and glance around the room. It looked to be late afternoon, which meant she'd slept far too much and still lacked any desire to get out of bed. Yet, with Yang gone, it felt strange to just sit there and wait. Trying to pass the time alone in the house while the blonde saw to her guests the day before was a futile exercise itself; she couldn't concentrate on reading, food had no appeal, and even going for a walk through the forest did nothing to lift her spirits. Every time she started to become distracted, her mind would revert to the look of hurt splayed across her wife's face when Weiss sent her away, too stubborn to admit her own failings and forcing the blonde to worry because of it.

Shoulders slumped, she shuffled back to lean against the headboard as a frustrated sigh escaped her lips. All this trouble would've been avoided had she simply spoken up. The blonde would've listened- of course she would have; she practically hung on every word that left the Atlesian's mouth- and Blake had an irrefutable point, because she was simply too kind to begrudge Weiss her fears, no matter how irrational. Just like with learning the forms and the breathing exercises to summon her chi, Yang would've patiently listened to every vented frustration and smiled, assuring her everything would be alright, offering a hand to help her up or a soft kiss against her temple in reassurance. There was nothing to fear in admitting the truth to her wife, yet her pride had clouded her judgement, her own inadequacies piling upon each other until they quite nearly buried her.

"Heavy thoughts make for a weary mind." Her gaze snapped to the door as it was shouldered open, her father-in-law striding in bearing a tray laden with bowls, cups, and utensils. "But… I'm beginning to suspect you don't have thoughts of any other kind."

She straightened up, her shoulders forming a line the same as her spine while she watched him walk to the bedside, setting the tray down where Yang usually laid. Over the past two months, aside from an introduction and a few greetings between them, they hadn't spoken or interacted, with Taiyang often motioning for his daughter to follow him into another room to discuss anything regarding Vale. He had a way of hanging back, lingering around in the shadows without appearing to be hiding, like a tangible ghost. Looking at him now, though, she could see where her wife followed closely in his footsteps. He wore an open brown vest over his tan tunic, a dragon etched in faded ink circling one bicep while clutching at a stylized, incomplete depiction of a heart. Shaggy blond bangs fell over his eyes, the light stubble on his chin making rounded cheeks look rugged, but his blue eyes were kind, filled with the same warmth as his daughter's. They even had the same lopsided smile as he glanced her way while setting the tray down.

"I know it might be difficult, but you need to eat and recover your strength." He uncovered one bowl, the rich smell making her stomach clench. "Here."

She accepted it with a small nod, fighting not to lick her lips. She'd hardly touched her dinner the night before, eating mechanically for a few minutes before becoming entirely uninterested in the remainder and pushing it aside to retreat to the bedroom. Her fingers tingled from the heat of the broth warming the bowl and she had to set it in her lap as the weakness in her limbs began to rob her of strength, the blanket acting as a suitable barrier so she didn't burn herself. Dumplings bobbed along the surface of the broth, vegetables occupying the spaces between and sharply reminding her of the tastes she'd grown accustomed to over the past two months while also bringing back memories of similar dishes from her youth. The castle cooks always made the best chicken stew around this time of year, as a final flavorful meal before food became rationed for the winter.

"When people say 'it looks good enough to eat', they usually intend on eating it, rather than just staring," Taiyang said, his tone soft despite the jibe. He pulled a chair over to the bedside, offering her a set of chopsticks while uncovering his own bowl. The third one on the tray, she assumed, would be for Yang, whenever the blonde returned from wherever she went. Likely some messenger requesting an audience; she hoped the blonde was at least being cordial despite her no doubt shortened temper. "And I made it myself, so you don't have to worry about getting poisoned again. Thankfully, my cooking isn't _that_ bad." He paused, clicking his own set of chopsticks together twice. "You're lucky it passed swiftly, by the way; most would still be burning with fever by now. You should take better care of yourself."

Weiss lowered her eyes to her bowl even as the man began slurping his way through his meal. Her grip on the chopsticks tightened as the noise grated on her nerves, a dull ache in her chest as she thought of Yang. The blonde's table manners were equally horrendous by Atlesian standards, but the woman obviously put effort into minimizing any action that had drawn the smallest of frowns from Weiss, usually with a sheepish lift to her lips and shoulders, a wordless apology. Honestly, she'd started to find it charming, the way her wife would forget herself sometimes, halfway through licking her fingers clean when she'd obviously catch herself and quickly try to hide her activities. Yang tried so hard for her… and what had she done in return? "It wasn't my intention to get sick."

"So, you stopped drinking the tea when you noticed it was tainted?" Taiyang raised a brow, popping a dumpling into his mouth.

As if the past several hours of misery weren't enough, now she had her father-in-law's disapproval twisting her gut even further. Her gaze dropped to her bowl, using the food within as a distraction. Weiss lifted it to her lips, quietly sipping the savory broth, nevermind that it wasn't as cool as she'd prefer, and then using her chopsticks to pick out the vegetables first. Her father's never-ending disappointment prepared her for times like this and she steeled herself quickly, swallowing down a mouthful so she could reply. "I overestimated my resilience. It won't happen again, Sir."

The man paused in his motions, a small chunk of chicken halfway to his mouth before being deposited back in his bowl, the dish set aside as he reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. She looked him in the eye, always surprised to find them a warm blue- a hue she'd never seen before, despite her lineage.

"Weiss, I'm just glad you're okay. I…" He sighed, shaking his head before running a hand through blond bangs, pushing them out of the way. "When Yang marched with me into battle for the first time, I was _proud_. Every Valen becomes a warrior and I was incredibly happy I could be with her when she truly took that step. It was a coming of age, in a way." Taiyang glanced around the room, a sad smile tugging at his lips before his expression fell. "But the wars… changed my perspective. My little dragon's always been reckless, head strong and plunging into danger with little thought to the consequences. I couldn't even be surprised when Ruby took after her, running off to chase whatever had caught her fancy with nothing more than the head on her shoulders sometimes. I'm proud of how strong they've become, and how brave, but I'm a father above all else and I worry for my daughters." His gaze drifted back to her, the hand on her shoulder squeezing gently. "I just want _one_ of you to think before putting yourself in danger like that, even more so when it's not needed. I'm far too young to be digging another grave."

"Another…" The word slipped out, her curiosity piqued a moment before his phrasing registered in her mind. The way he said the words, and the inflection, seemed as though he counted _her_ among his children, one of his reckless daughters. The Atlesian hadn't thought she'd be accepted into the family so quickly outside of formal acknowledgement, but the genuine concern that clouded his eyes before despair overtook it made her think otherwise. Winter got that same look when they were younger, when the smaller of the duo failed to meet their father's expectations and would inevitably face the consequences for her shortcomings- a sort of kinship that spoke of great affection.

"Yang hasn't told you." The man pressed his lips into a thin line, withdrawing his hand. "It doesn't surprise me. It's… a difficult subject-"

"Tai, this set hardly looks used!" Weiss' attention snapped to the doorway as the Faunus Chieftain stepped through, peering into the interior of a box only a few inches deep but almost two feet wide and about as long. She'd thought they were alone in the house but was obviously wrong and she had to clamp down on her immediate reaction being to reach for Myrtenaster, set in its place on the desk not three feet from her. Were she stronger, she might've flinched, but as it was she managed to remain perfectly still while the Faunus approached. When he looked up, golden eyes brightened along with his smile. "Ah, so you've awoken! Good." Setting the box down at the edge of the bed, he pulled over another chair and picked up the third bowl, forgoing a set of chopsticks in favor of a spoon. "I worried Tai made too much again; I don't think I'd be able to keep eating double portions _and_ keep my _svelte_ frame."

The blond chuckled, shaking his head at the comment, and neither seemed to notice her momentary confusion regarding the unfamiliar word, somehow mixed into the fluent Valen with such ease. Taiyang replied in that flowing language the Faunus used, repeating the word and laughing, so she busied herself with another mouthful of stew. That plan was interrupted, however, when the burly Chieftain leaned closer, his gaze piercing as it met hers. He tilted his head before nodding, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw.

"You've recovered well. By tomorrow, you'll be back to full strength, I'd wager. Or, at the very least, be able to leave the bed without trouble." He sat back, one hand beneath his bowl and easily dwarfing it while the other used the spoon to stir, the steam billowing up in puffs. "You take better to bed rest than Blake or Yang. The one fidgets like there's no tomorrow and the other gets…" He paused, searching for the right word with a sardonic smile. "Moody, shall we say."

"Where are they?" She ventured, keeping her voice even despite the slight tremble in her hands. Being confronted with a disappointed father-in-law upon awakening wasn't bad enough, now she had one of the Faunus nobles judging her recovery from her ill advised endeavor. On top of that, she still worried what her wife might do; she seemed so angry, the red flashing in her eyes briefly, glowing like malevolent gems in her scrambled memories during the tea's hold.

"Yang's in the clearing, bleeding off her excess energy with some training. Her chi flared far too bright during the past day for her to sit here and stew."

Taiyang looked up, curious. "Who'd you send out with her lunch?"

"The twins were hanging around the docks when we saw off Kali and Blake, so they volunteered. Knowing those two, they'll challenge Yang to a fight before giving her the food." He shook his head, the black mane cascading over his shoulders sent flying a little with the force of his laugh. "They'll never learn."

"In time, she'll be grateful for the added exercise and they're strong enough to weather her rage." The blond ate a bit more of the stew, his movements purely mechanical as his eyes seemed fixated on a point in the distance, his mind many miles away. "They'll be fine."

The Chieftain nodded and spooned a bit of stew into his mouth, blowing on it a bit to cool the hot liquid. When he swallowed, those golden eyes found hers again, a small smile on his lips. "My wife and daughter send their best regards, by the way, though I'm not sure what that's worth. I can assure you, Blake will be suitably punished upon their return but they were both needed back in Menagerie."

She considered, briefly, asking for leniency for the Faunus Princess, but expected that the Chieftain's mind wouldn't be so easily swayed. It was mostly her fault, she thought, but one could argue she paid the price for her foolish decision spurned by fear. Instead, she offered a small smile, one she hoped would be taken as polite as she defaulted to the mannerisms she'd always known. "I'm sorry I couldn't see them off, Your Majesty."

"Oh, my dear, just call me Ghira! No need for formalities, right?" His genuine smile gave her a little hope. "Besides, it's understandable," he replied with a chuckle. "Were things different, they would've stayed to see you through your recovery, but I'm afraid the issues are rather pressing." He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if someone might overhear. "Our court is in a bit of disarray, you see- something to do with our last tourney and some sign of disrespect since." He shook his head, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. "I'm _quite_ glad to stay out of it; thankfully, my part in the grand scheme of things dramatically reduced once we united Menagerie." Her lightly elbowed Taiyang. "I'm a little surprised your daughter's handling the crown so well, honestly; she never seemed the type to take such headaches with the patience she's shown."

Suitably snapped out of his trance, the blond stirred his food with his chopsticks. "Yang's always been more level headed than she seems." Her lips pulled back into a grin. "I think she just actively ignores her sense, some days." The two of them laughed, leaving the young woman to watch, a tad curious. Seeing them side-by-side like this… she could see the overlap with their daughters- the same easy smile shared by the blondes, the tilting of their head shared by the Faunus- and it made perfect sense that Yang and Blake would be just as close. Weiss busied herself with her food, hunger falling away to nothingness as guilt filled the empty space in her her stomach; she continued eating because she needed to, forcing back the innate desire to simply set the food aside and retreat. After their amusement died down, the blond scrubbed at his nose, leaning back in his chair and looking at Weiss. "Yang's taken you to the clearing, right? The one she uses for training?"

"Yes," she replied warily, unsure if she could take much more guilt weighing down her soul. Some part of her scoffed- she was a _Schnee_ , after all, and the disappointment of at least one parent remained a constant throughout her entire life; just because she changed continents didn't mean that particular facet of her life was suddenly void- but the remainder kept those self admonishments locked away where she could deal with them later and met those blue eyes evenly, signaling she was fully prepared for the next round of chiding.

"The next time the two of you go out there, ask her about it." Taiyang lowered his eyes back to his bowl, the blue misted over with unshed tears. "Maidens willing, she'll tell you."

Her brows furrowed initially, the non-sequitur throwing her off balance before she caught onto his meaning. He seemed to have picked up their earlier discussion where they'd left off, or near enough. Unfortunately, his cryptic directions were more confusing than a stilted answer might've been.

"Blast it all, Tai; whatever it is, just tell the poor girl." The Faunus frowned, directing his gaze at the blond. "It's not like you to withhold information like this. Has old age made you less talkative?"

Despite the friendliness of the banter, Taiyang kept his head down. "It's not my place to tell her about Summer."

He continued eating even as Ghira recoiled, his shoulders slumping as he turned his attention to his own bowl. Though she'd never experienced it herself- her grandfather passed away when she was very young, existing as nothing more than paintings in the castle's hallways and a blurry figure in her earliest memories- Weiss could recognize the sadness of a lost loved one, a pain that never seemed to fade entirely, in their countenances. With every casualty report during the wars, she watched newly minted widows and bereaved parents become blanketed in the same weary silence that filled the room now, once their bargaining with the heavens failed to bring the departed back. Whoever Summer was, she meant a lot to the man, probably a lot to Yang as well, and was at least known by the Faunus.

Definitely a conversation for a later time, she thought as the sound of chopsticks and the clinking of a spoon filled in where conversation couldn't. Once the blonde returned, she would likely want to talk- or, rather, apologize, again- for Weiss' blunder, which would be another battle to wage while trying to explain herself, to justify her own actions. In hindsight, she wished she'd simply told Yang the truth instead of hiding it and resolved to not forget this lesson. She wasn't sure if Vale could survive the consequences of its Queen's fury were she to make another such misstep.

"Weiss?" She looked up, seeing Taiyang's gesture towards her mostly empty bowl. All that remained at this point was about half of the broth. "Are you finished?"

Although it made her cringe internally, Weiss had watched enough Valens eat to understand that she was expected to drink the remnants straight from the bowl, tipping it back until nothing remained. It still seemed decidedly uncouth to her mind but, at the same time, she couldn't turn down the nutrition given her situation. With only the slightest hesitation, she lifted the bowl's rim to her lips and tilted it, drinking down the rest of her lunch before surrendering the empty container to her father-in-law. He collected up the other empty bowls and started for the door while Ghira handed her a cup that had cooled enough to feel pleasant against her palms.

"You'll be happy to know this is a Valen drink, and it's rather good," he said with a slight smirk, picking up his own cup. "Legend says that the people of south east Vale were under attack by demons centuries ago and they prayed to the Maidens for help. In response, the Maidens gifted the people with a bush that produces tea leaves all year round and, depending on which season the leaves are harvested, it grants the drinker boons associated with the patron Maiden." The Faunus gestured towards her in a toast. "While I'm not sure I put much stock in the old legend, this summer blend _will_ boost your strength."

She lifted the cup in return, smiling politely. It still seemed surreal to be alone in the same room as one of the Faunus, people she believed were themselves the products of myths and legends until a few short days ago, but she didn't feel as nervous and alert as before. Perhaps it was a product of the lingering lethargy in her limbs, beckoning her back to bed now that she had a full belly. Resisting, Weiss cleared her throat softly. "Are you… very familiar with Vale's legends?"

"Just the ones Tai taught me." He swirled the pale yellow liquid around, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've heard variations over the years from others but I've known Taiyang since I was a lad helping my father on his ship, so his versions are the ones I remember best." Ghira chuckled. "It seems so long ago, now. Those were simpler times, when I thought I would be a merchant like my father and he hoped to be a woodsman like his."

"Neither of your houses were noble?" Weiss furrowed her brows slightly, confused. Before civil war broke out in Mantle, her family served as stewards of the land, controlling a large swath of territory on the north side of Atlas. After the dust settled and all the remaining noble houses bent their knee to the Schnee crest, the noble lineages were redrawn to validate heroic deeds performed by knights serving their liege and so forth, but for the most part the lot in life for the people of her kingdom remained the same as their forefathers. She couldn't imagine the shift from a merchant's life to that of royalty.

It belatedly occurred to her that her word choice might've been poor, considering the look Ghira gave her before he busted out laughing. "Sometimes I forget that, despite our similarities, our people are worlds apart from one another. No, my dear, I'm no noble- not by blood, at least. I grew up with my father aboard his ships, learning to sail the seas and trade at ports all over Remnant." He reached over, picking up the box from earlier as Taiyang returned to his seat. "Kali, on the other hand, now _she_ was born to a noble bloodline." For a moment, the Faunus seemed lost to recollection, a fond smile pulling at his lips. "I still remember the first time I met her; I'd put into the largest eastern port during _Carnaval_ to sell my wares for a bit more coin. I didn't know who she was at the time- she'd snuck out of the castle against her mother's wishes, wanting to see the sights without a retinue of guards trailing after her- and I delayed weighing anchor for a _fortnight_ just to talk to her in the gardens. My love for the sea and my trade dwindled even as my love for her grew; when she started courting me, I would've given up everything had she only asked." Nodding to himself, Ghira looked up at her and the Atlesian couldn't help but be taken aback by the earnest contentment in his expression. "She never did, though, and I'd still be running the business were it not for the civil war in Menagerie. I ended up turning over all my ships and cargo to a young bunny with a knack for figures, seeing as Blake preferred leading our people over the minutia of Mistrali import tax laws." He paused to take a sip of his drink, tilting his head afterwards. "Now that I think on it, though, I haven't talked to Velvet in some time; I hope she's doing alright."

At that, Taiyang seemed to perk up, his previous melancholy left behind as the light returned to his eyes. Another thing Yang must've inherited from her father. "She stopped by port not too long before the wedding, actually; she forged an alliance with a Vacuon merchant. You've heard of the Adel Shipping Company?"

"Of course!" Ghira laughed. "Back in the days before the word 'enemy' involved bloodshed, the Adels were my biggest competitor! She really managed to wrangle them into a deal?" His expression pinched into one of concern. "She's not being taken advantage of, is she? Kali doesn't usually require our merchants to disclose their off shore dealings- this is the first I'm hearing about this."

While the alliance was news to Weiss as well, that name at least rang a bell with the Atlesian. The Adel Shipping Company was one of the few merchant businesses willing to pay the taxes to sell their wares on Atlas' shores. Now, she supposed, she knew why; having contacts in so many kingdoms likely did wonders for their profits, even if they paid a little extra gold here and there, especially if they were using Faunus merchants to circumvent normal trade restrictions and utilize more direct routes than Atlesian merchants could.

"Trust me, she's being treated fairly." Taiyang smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I don't think Yang would stand for it otherwise; she might not want to start another war, but she has other ways of being… persuasive."

"That she does." Ghira hardly suppressed his grimace, a hint that perhaps some other things had happened while she was unconscious. She just hoped it wasn't anything a little time couldn't heal.

"That's enough about mergers and ancient history." The blond motioned towards the box. "Shall we play?"

Setting his drink aside, the Faunus nodded and opened the container in his lap, retrieving two small bowls and setting them on the bed before turning the box over and revealing the bottom of it. Now that she had a better view, Weiss could see the lines etched into the wood, little unmarked squares that seemed to resemble an oddly proportioned chess board. Her father-in-law uncovered one of the bowls, revealing several small stones as red as blood in one while the other had bright yellow ones.

"What is that?" The words left her mouth before she could think better of it, confusion evident in her tone.

"It's a strategy game every Valen child learns," the blond replied, pulling a few of the red stones out to show her. "It's part of our warrior training- to teach patience, discipline, and critical thinking on the battlefield." One corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. "Some pick it up better than others."

"We have a similar game in Atlas." She accepted one of the stones to inspect, surprised at the brilliant finish; she might've mistaken them for gems, given the way they caught the light. "I used to play with my sister."

"You stopped playing?" Taiyang turned towards her while Ghira continued setting up the board, taking one of the yellow stones and placing it on one of the intersections made by the etched lines. "Why?"

"I had no one to play against," she replied, offering a small shrug. "My sister had to attend the war meetings and my brother never cared for the game much."

She left out the part about the other noble children being more interested in impressing her than playing the game, thinking a boldly foolish move or an obscure stratagem would elevate them in her eyes. The vast majority never constituted a real competition and the few who _did_ have some idea how to play the game would never play her in earnest; better to gracefully concede defeat than risk earning the wrath of the royal family. Only Winter would play her without holding back and she could never defeat her elder sister, too adept at assisting their father in coordinating their real forces for Weiss to be anything close to a challenge. There were a few times when the heiress apparent would let her win, perhaps to build her confidence, but those were rare and hollow.

"I have the same problem." Her father-in-law confessed with a small chuckle. "Yang's usually busy and Ruby's off in the north chasing who-knows-what."

"And no one in the village will play you because you've beaten them too many times." The Faunus pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your move."

As Taiyang placed one of his own stones down, near the right corner closest to him, Weiss decided to take a chance. She needed to make amends, as much with Yang as with her father-in-law and the Faunus, and this appeared to be a step in the right direction. "Would you be willing to teach me how to play?"

Immediately, the blond looked over at her with a smile that lit up the room and reminded her all too much of her wife. "Of course!"

As the two players shifted their game so the Atlesian had a better vantage point, Taiyang launched into an explanation of the basic terms while she paid rapt attention. If nothing else, it would pass the time until Yang returned and the true reckoning began.

* * *

Author's Note: The Valen tea everyone's drinking here at the end is based off tieguanyin, a Chinese oolong tea that roughly translates to 'Iron Goddess of Mercy' and originated in Anxi, Fujin province, which is in the southeast part of China; the way the tea tastes varies depending on when it's harvested, the part of Anxi it's grown in, and how the leaves are treated, and there is a legend regarding the tea that basically says it was a gift from a Goddess (or a Bodhisattva). There. You learned something (potentially useless) today.


	6. Reconciliation

**Disclaimer:** Huzzah.

* * *

The moment she trudged into the kitchen, Yang was met with Ghira's raucous laughter and her father's heavy stare. She'd already played out every outcome in her head, now that it was clear enough to actually _think_ without her chi flaring to life, so she couldn't even feign surprise. After spending from noon until well past sundown defending herself from various attackers, fighting to the point of exhaustion and then some, the blonde had almost nothing left, merely standing there as the Faunus slapped his knee and her father eventually joined in with soft chuckles and a fond shake of his head.

"Okay, guys, you can stop now." she said, the weariness in her bones infecting her tone. Her muscles kept shivering despite the fire crackling in the hearth, another stew bubbling in the pot above it. Yang somehow couldn't be motivated to even be _hungry_ , her gut too sore to contemplate doing its job; all she wanted to do was pass out somewhere and recover from the rigorous day. The blonde had already washed herself off in the stream on the way back, realizing she wouldn't have the energy once inside the house, but her clothing would need to be mended and washed thoroughly tomorrow. Honestly, all of it could wait. "Dad."

"Who did it?" The burly Faunus turned towards her fully, a little grin on his lips as he tried not to burst out laughing again. "Which one actually managed to hit you in the face?"

"Because you might want to keep an _eye_ on them in the future," her father said, prompting a fresh round of laughter from both of them.

Yang weathered their amusement with nothing more than a heavy sigh. She really couldn't pretend to be shocked; this _was_ the most likely outcome of her returning home with a black eye after spending the whole day out in the clearing, burning off excess energy. The entire right side of her face had swollen, nearly closing her eye due to the bruising, and the skin had split across the apple of her cheek from the force of the blow. One good hit while she was distracted had knocked her flat on her back and left her with a throbbing reminder of her overall foolishness, as if the turmoil of emotions that had pushed her to that level wasn't enough to drive the point home. She waited until they'd quieted down some before responding, seeing as they would likely keep bugging her about the incident until she told them anyway.

"It was Melanie." The next round of chuckles, although quieter, caused her to roll her eyes towards the ceiling, crossing her arms over her chest. "She got a lucky shot, that's all."

"I'm sure that would be my excuse, too." Her father shook his head. "Did you take on both sets of twins at once?"

"Yeah." The blonde sighed, marching over to the pot and grabbing the nearest bowl. After Ghira's retainers found her, she'd trounced the two Faunus just to earn her lunch, and then continued sparring against them for a solid hour before the women showed up. Apparently, Junior had already caught wind of her foul mood on the mainland and sent his nieces to help. She wouldn't be surprised if that's why the Faunus twins showed up as well, at Ghira's behest; the bodyguards always seemed intent on finding excuses to test their mettle against her, true, but anyone on Patch would be able to guess that having an opponent would do the woman worlds of good. Smashing her fists into the tress just didn't provide the same level of catharsis and mental distraction she needed. "For a four-on-one fight, coming out with a little scratch isn't _that_ bad."

"I watched you tear through a whole cavalry company when we broke the Atlesian siege at Signal while hardly breaking a sweat." Her father pointed out, a teasing lilt to his voice. When she turned towards him, he handed her a set of chopsticks and she could see the worry lurking in his eyes. Even if she had completed much greater feats before and faced opponents _not_ intent on killing her today, even if a swollen eye constituted nothing her chi wouldn't have fixed by sunup tomorrow, the fact that it happened at all seemed to be his main focus. "Admit it; you let your anger direct you."

She thought about arguing for all of two seconds before her shoulders slumped even further, her gaze falling to the space between them. "You're right. I just… I was…" Yang sighed, raising her eyes to meet his. "H-how's Weiss? Is she… doing better?"

"Yes, _much_ better." Her father gave her a small smile, accepting her minimal response and allowing the subject to slide for the time being. "I taught her how to play the encircling game earlier, she cleaned herself up, and she even came down for dinner with us, but she went back to bed about an hour ago. I suspect she was trying to wait up for you but the tea's still in her system; another night of rest and she'll be back to normal." He paused, lowering his voice and looking at her with all seriousness. "We should keep an eye on her anyway, just in case." Another pause. "I'd suggest you use your good one."

Although the Faunus had to stifle a laugh against his forearm, Yang couldn't find her humor quite yet, anxiety gnawing at her gut. It almost made her dump the contents of her bowl back into the pot. How could she possibly keep anything down with every ill emotion twisting her into knots that refused to come undone? Her brows drew together, concern making her throat constrict and her tongue feel thick inside her mouth. "Was she mad?"

"Only when Tai weaseled out of a loss on the last move during one of their games," Ghira said, draining the remainder of his cup in one go. Given the bottle of wine on the table- the glass spoke of a Menagerian design, from the southern part of their island if she had to guess- it wasn't too difficult to figure out the two were staying up to trade memories back and forth, as they often did. "She learns quickly and she certainly has a competitive streak. I think she'll become good friends with Blake, once all this is behind us."

If only it was so easy.

Her father put a hand on her shoulder. "Eat, and then go talk to her." He leaned towards her to emphasize his point. "And I mean it, little dragon. _Talk_ to her."

Yang nodded, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart at the thought of confronting Weiss. All day, she'd vented her powerless rage with herself over her own errors to try and clear her head, even sent away two messengers that had arrived bearing news from the clan leaders to the south so she wouldn't add to her frustrations. Yet, she hadn't come up with some manner of suitable explanation for her behavior, and by extension Blake's. Sure, her wife had accepted the Faunus' apology, but she hadn't necessarily forgiven the blonde yet- or Blake, for that matter. She owed the woman a proper explanation but constructing it had just fed into her anger, frustration lending her voice power as she yelled with every punch thrown and every hit blocked. Mechanically, Yang sat down and ate the contents of her bowl, not registering the flavor as she mentally mapped out everything she needed to say. Some part of her wished she'd been there when Weiss awoke, because maybe the confusion of newly returning to a state of consciousness would've afforded her leeway the woman's lucidity would not. Her father had exiled her from the house, though, citing her simmering anger as the main reason he didn't want her just sitting there by Weiss' bedside, stewing. The blonde herself had awoke in the wee hours of the morning, her guilt driving her to sit on the bedside rather than continue lying beside her wife. She'd felt the woman's chi pushing and pulling at hers before drifting off, obviously seeking much needed comfort during the height of her fever, but Weiss' breathing that morning was deep and even, with no crease to her brow. She looked peaceful, though she did reach out when Yang removed herself from the bed. An automatic reaction, Yang assumed, and she'd taken great care to tuck the woman in so she wouldn't feel the early morning chill.

She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand carefully, halfway through her silent meal and still no closer to finding the right words. Everything seemed to jumble up, thoughts and emotions coming to her without anything concrete to string them together with, and certainly not in any manner of sense. Over everything, she felt the lingering spectre of fear- how could Weiss forgive her? Did she even know the full extent of the blonde's transgressions? What if she demanded to leave Patch?

They'd grown closer since their wedding. Most often in little bounds, small victories that brightened her smile, but the idea of losing that, of being sent backwards…

All too soon, she finished her dinner and pushed away from the table, turning her attention to the stairs. Yang had a thought to ask her father for advice, question if he'd ever faced something similar, but she doubted he'd tell her. This trial she had to overcome on her own and bear the fallout without any help; he'd warned her about such things when the message arrived proposing the marriage all those months ago.

She made her way up to the second floor landing, her boots falling heavily with every step until she stopped in front of the bedroom door. However, before she could reach out and open it, indecision gripped her and rooted her to the spot. There were very few things that could bring the warrior to a halt so effectively but so many things entered her mind, born of her heavy heart from all that had happened.

Should she knock? Announce her presence softly, give Weiss the chance to turn her away? What if the woman was asleep, should she wake her wife? What if that just made things worse?

"Yang?" The blonde stiffened, lilac eyes focusing on the wood as Weiss' voice came from within. "Is that you?"

The blonde tried to answer but the words caught in her throat, forcing her to instead take a steadying breath before entering the room and closing the door behind her. If nothing else, she could take the woman addressing her in Atlesian as a good sign; a return to their normal dynamic, if only just a little.

Her wife sat up in bed, the moonlight streaming in from the window cutting a path across the room and illuminating the right side of her face. Some part of her wanted nothing more than to immediately crawl into bed beside the woman, preferably under the covers as her muscles once again shivered. Despite sitting in the kitchen while she ate, the fire had done nothing to chase away the chill of the stream, and the night air had driven it deeper until her very bones felt cold. Without her anger- without her chi- to combat it, the cold lingered, and it threatened to make her curl in on herself like a child. Yet, she remained just inside the door, waiting for some indication as to what she should do next. The few words she'd managed to form and string together on the trek to the room had disappeared entirely, her throat clamping down out of an alien sense of loss.

The feared Dragon of Patch could face down entire armies without so much as blinking, a cocky grin on her lips and a swagger in her step, but, with those sharp blue eyes upon her, she felt like nothing more than a harmless snake with no fangs, pale fingers wrapped around her neck. No matter how much it hurt, if Weiss sent her away, she would go and lament her foolishness without a fight.

She just hoped it didn't come to that.

"Yang, say something." Weiss shifted, folding her hands in her lap and squaring her shoulders- a posture she assumed whenever uncomfortable or anxious.

In response, the blonde blurted out the first words to come to mind, not wanting to make her wife even more upset. "Are you feeling better?

The woman gave her a small smile and nodded. "Yes, much better. Thank you."

"I'm so sorry-"

"Stop." She immediately bit down on the flood of apologies that wanted to come out, watching as the Atlesian heaved a sigh. "You don't have to keep apologizing; you did nothing wrong."

Silence filled the space between them, a brief struggle ensuing within her heart: to remain quiet, as her wife bid, or correct her, explain why she begged the woman's forgiveness. In the end, it was no contest.

"I _did_ do something wrong. A couple things, actually," she said, hands clenching at her sides even as she evenly met those ice blue eyes. Her arms, sore from the day's exertion, found enough strength to dig blunt fingernails into the palms of her hands. She probably couldn't even lift her arms at this point, Ember Celica's familiar weight seeming many times heavier; she couldn't remember the last time they felt so dense. She could keenly remember the last time she had so much weighing her down, though- her guilt, her burned out anger, her exhaustion- and, despite it all, she finally found the words she needed when genuine curiosity superseded the woman's previous resignation. "I broke your trust, Weiss. I- I didn't mean to… but I did."

The Atlesian seemed to parse her words for a moment, brows knitting in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

Haltingly at first, Yang explained how the whole situation came to pass, how her unwillingness to bend an old tradition had caused the whole mess. She left nothing out, not even her presence beneath the window, and it hurt to see the woman's eyes widen in shock, gaze dropping to stare at the hands in her lap even as the blonde continued her telling. She spoke of everything up to hearing the woman's tear filled admission, where she trailed off into an uneasy silence, wanting so bad to apologize again but not sure what to make of Weiss' hunched shoulders.

"So… you heard everything, then." The Atlesian cleared her throat slightly, idly smoothing out the blanket on her lap. Silence began to stretch between them before her wife sighed, forcing her gaze up to meet Yang's. "I suppose that makes this easier, in some respects. You… you already know why I… why I sent you away." Blue eyes wanted to look away but Weiss forced herself to maintain eye contact, straightening her shoulders and back, and the blonde quite nearly left the doorway to go to her, smooth her hands across tense muscles. It worried her- just last night, her wife was shivering so badly the warrior feared she might seriously injure herself- and she managed half a step forward before the woman spoke. "I'm sorry, Yang. I never meant for all this to happen; I never intended for things to spiral the way they did. I thought I was doing the right thing by removing myself from the equation." Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, forcing her to look away before she could continue. "I didn't want my prejudice to put you in jeopardy, or cause you to worry."

" _Of course_ I'm going to worry about you!" Immediately, the blonde cringed at the volume of her words, raising her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Wait- I, I didn't mean to yell, I'm just…" She sighed, somehow summoning the will power to walk forward, at least until she could sit on the corner of the bed. More than anything, she wanted to wrap her arms around the smaller woman's frame, replace those awful memories from when she was caught in the throes of the fever with Weiss resting calmly beside her, lost to a peaceful slumber. However, if she allowed herself such an indulgence, she might fall asleep from the weight of relief and weariness dragging her down. "Weiss, I meant what I said the day we were wed. We're tied together now, our happiness, our sorrows- when something upsets you, I'm upset, too." She paused, acknowledging the obvious. "But I won't say I understand. What you were taught about the Faunus… it doesn't make sense to me. But I at least understand that it was scary for _you_ , and I won't hold that against you. I just…" A shake of her head. "I overreacted. Blake wasn't lying; I really thought I'd done something wrong and I wanted to make it right. I needed to know what the problem was but I should've been more patient."

"I should've been more honest," her wife replied, though there was a small smile on her lips. "You don't have to be so eager to take the blame, you know. I've had plenty of time to think about my actions, my mistakes. I did this to myself."

"I refuse to believe that." The blonde glanced away for a moment, lilac eyes falling on Myrtenaster, resting peacefully on the dresser. She remembered their time in the clearing, teaching the Atlesian techniques that were ingrained in her muscles to the point she couldn't actually figure out a way to verbally describe the motions- they simply were, and she could do each without conscious effort. Most vividly, she recalled how they moved together when unlocking the woman's chi, the icy cold pushing back against the heat of her inner fire until they found a balance and could move as one. "Look, I don't think we'll ever agree on this. In the end, we… we _both_ made mistakes." She put a hand on the center of her chest. "I shouldn't have asked Blake try to fix a misunderstanding between us; I should've let you tell me in your own time. I _definitely_ shouldn't have eavesdropped on your conversation." She looked back towards Weiss, noting the urge to cut her off shining in those blue eyes. But she didn't, allowing the blonde to air her faults without comment, so she returned the favor. "And…"

"And, I should've told you my feelings from the start. I shouldn't have sent you away without a proper explanation." The woman paused, lifting one shoulder in a small shrug. "I shouldn't have kept drinking the tea for an excuse to tell the truth. I should've trusted you more-"

"You trusted me enough." For the first time in far too long, the corners of her mouth pulled up into a small smile. "You've had all your life to be afraid of Blake and the other Faunus but I've had all _my_ life to be their friends. Even now, I- I can't wrap my head around how the stories must've gone, what you heard growing up." Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. "It doesn't make sense to me; the only part I can latch onto is that it upset you, scared you. Overcoming that… it couldn't be easy, at all, and, honestly… I'm _really_ impressed." Weiss seemed shocked at that admission, mouth falling open just slightly before skepticism took its place, and the blonde realized she couldn't leave any doubts lingering between them. "No, really- I mean, _I_ couldn't keep a straight face if I had to talk to a spider one-on-one."

While that did erase the skepticism, it was quickly replaced with confusion. "What? Why would you talk to a spider?"

"I wouldn't! They're so creepy, with their eight legs and beady little eyes and fangs and-" The uncontrollable shiver _not_ borne of the chill still deep in her bones wracked her frame then and effectively cut her off, shoulders hunching as she tried to curl in on herself.

"Are you… scared of _spiders_?" Despite the emphasis, when Yang looked up, she didn't see disapproval or teasing reflected back at her. Instead, her wife had a little smile on her lips, as if this new information somehow pleased her.

"Yeah." She relaxed a little, firmly reminding herself that there weren't any spiders on Patch and shoving to the back of her mind that one time Blake had brought a tarantula with her, claiming it as a pet. "Have been since I was a little kid." She shrugged with a chuckle. "And, you know, I definitely wouldn't sit down and have tea with one!" That pulled a little laugh from the woman, running a hand through her white bangs. "So, yeah. I'm impressed. I know it took a lot of courage for you to do that. To confront your bias and face your fears. And…" Her gaze drifted down to the space between them as she felt the her smile suddenly broaden uncontrollably as heat coursed through her cheeks. It wasn't the familiar warmth of her chi flaring back to life, though. "It made me really happy to hear you trusted me enough to talk to Blake. Out of all of this, I can't help but be a little giddy about that."

Slowly, she looked up to meet Weiss' eyes, noting that the skepticism had given way to a small smile. "Let no one ever accuse you of being a pessimist."

"There's a silver lining to every cloud, right?" They laughed softly, pausing awkwardly as both tried to find a suitable way to get the conversation back on track. Eventually, Yang bit the bullet. "So, can we… agree to do better?" She held out her right hand, though she couldn't articulate a reason why- maybe because she wanted to cup her wife's face or touch her shoulder- but she did neither, letting it hang in the air as she spoke. "I promise I won't ask anyone else to interfere like that again. If I'm worried, I'll tell you, and I promise to listen to whatever it is that's bothering you, no matter how silly or ridiculous or terrible _you_ think it is." Pausing, she took a moment to decide on how to word what she wanted to say to make her feelings clear, resolution causing her chin to tilt up and a bright smile to finally find its way back to her lips after the past day of flipping between a severe frown or an outright snarl. "And, for the record, I don't think you're a barbarian or a monster, Weiss. I never have. No matter how many times you find yourself surprised or scared by something, I won't hold that against you. I know you're a beautiful person, inside and out."

The woman blinked a few times, those blue eyes suddenly shining brighter than before and it took Yang a moment to realize she was holding back tears. Her smile fell, worry squeezing her heart that she'd said the wrong thing, but then Weiss held out her left hand, beckoning her closer. She slid up the bed until the Atlesian's smaller hand slipping into hers, squeezing softly.

"I have promises to make, too." Her tone grew stronger with every word, but the blonde could definitely hear the warble in her voice near the beginning. "I promise I won't shut you out to save myself the difficulty of being honest. If you ask, I'll tell you what's bothering me instead of hiding it."

She bent her head forward, brushing a kiss against the woman's knuckles before covering them with her other hand. "So… we'll learn from this? We can forgive each other and move on, right?"

"I still don't believe you did anything warranting the need for my forgiveness, especially in comparison… but yes." Weiss nodded. "You are forgiven."

"You know, I'd argue the same for you, but I really don't think I'd win in the long run." She chuckled. "Either way, I forgive you, too. And when Blake comes back-"

"We'll _both_ forgive her." The pleasant expression formerly adorning her wife's face slid away in an instant, brows pinching together as her voice took on a forceful edge. "I mean it, Yang; she was _only_ trying to help. We both put her in a difficult position and she… made a mistake, yes, but she didn't do it through maliciousness."

"I know that." She sighed, shaking her head slightly and moving closer, as much because her arms were tired of being held up as to get a little closer to her wife. With the relief suffusing her being, she wondered how much longer before she simply collapsed backwards in utter exhaustion; just _sitting_ on the bed felt amazing. "Honestly, I'm still a little upset with her. But… we'll work it out." The blonde chuckled, offering a small shrug. "It's not the first time we've had a fight, believe it or not."

"Well, given how both of you- wait." Weiss leaned closer, her unoccupied hand coming up to firmly grab hold of the blonde's chin and turn her head towards the window. "I thought it was just the shadows playing tricks on me- Yang, what happened to your eye?"

"Oh. That." She cringed. "Um, long story?" At her wife's thoroughly unamused stare, she cleared her throat. "I spent most of today training. Some friends stopped by to spar, and I… well, I was angry, and distracted, so one of them got a lucky shot."

"That looks much worse than a 'lucky shot'." Her head was moved, allowing the moonlight to illuminate the wound better. Slim fingers lightly traced the edges of the swelling, at once causing her to wince while also providing sweet relief. Somehow, her wife's skin was cold to the touch, even moreso than what lingered, but not in the way that would make her shiver again. Instead, her touch eased the throbbing pain she'd shoved to the back of her mind, pulling a soft sigh from her lips. Weiss moved closer, pushing back blonde bangs to see how high the bruising went. She remained still throughout the inspection, closing her right eye so she didn't worry the woman more; her muscles were already so tired that forcing it open made them twitch and jump. "I thought your semblance could prevent injuries like this?"

"It can, but I was redirecting it at the time." When the Atlesian moved away slightly, she turned her head to look at her wife's worried expression. "I was focusing all my energy into my strikes. It… left me defenseless and Melanie exploited that."

"Do you have any other injuries?" Weiss pushed the blanket off herself, making to stand.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little rest and-" At the frosty glare she received, the blonde bit down on her words and opted for a different approach. "Nope, no other injuries at all."

At first, it didn't look like the woman would accept her smile and words as proof enough, but after narrowing her eyes briefly the Atlesian moved away from the bed with nothing more than a firm command for Yang to stay put. She felt a little silly, waiting on the bed while Weiss left the room, and she thought about at least changing out of her clothes and into her sleepwear. In the end, she decided against it; having just made amends with her wife, the _last_ thing she wanted to do was put that in jeopardy. To pass the time, she looked around the room and tapped her fingers against her knees, raising a brow at the game board left on the dresser. She couldn't really tell due to the distance but she thought it looked like the set Ghira had given her dad to commemorate the ending of Vale's civil war. The Faunus liked to joke that it was a 'welcome to royalty' present, the pieces meant to symbolize the two new 'princesses of Vale' while the board served as their father, upon whose legacy they would build the coming era. Or something like that.

A small smile came to her lips at the memory. Back then, she didn't understand exactly what it meant when her father defeated the last unruly clan huddling in the far corner of Vale. All she cared about was an end to the fighting, a chance to return home and pay respects to those lost during the senseless war. Being an island, they'd thought Patch safe from the war on the mainland, so when it came…

The door closed softly, drawing her attention to Weiss as she returned, a cloth in one hand and a bowl in the other. Yang watched as water sloshed around the rim when it was set down on the bed, one corner of the cloth dipped into the liquid. "This may hurt, but I need you to hold still."

"I can-" Blue eyes snapped to her single lilac. "Do that. Absolutely. No moving, at all."

The Atlesian nodded before leaning forward, lightly dabbing at the swollen flesh. Thankfully, with the blonde sitting and her wife standing, the reversed height difference made it so she had to tilt her head up to allow the woman to work. She tried her hardest to keep from flinching, not wanting Weiss to think she was being anything other than absolutely delicate, but a few times, it simply couldn't be helped. The cut along the top of her cheek stung when the cloth passed over it, clearing away the little bit of dried blood that clung to her skin, and it throbbed for a moment before her wife pressed her fingertips to the wound to check the bleeding. Suddenly, cold seeped into her skin, though it wasn't the kind that made her shiver. Instead, it spread through her, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day washing over the sea, bringing waves of comfort and much needed relief. Weiss' touch traced higher, near her swollen lower eyelid, and the chill followed. She bit her lip lightly as her wife gently pressed the moistened cloth against her brow, where another split lay hidden beneath the swelling. That one had stopped bleeding quickly when she brushed the back of her thumb against it to keep her vision clear.

"How did one punch manage to do so much damage?" Weiss murmured, dipping the cloth into the water again.

"Well, it was a kick, actually," she replied, unsure if the question was meant to be rhetorical or not. She conveniently left out that fact that said kick happened to be delivered by a boot comprised almost entirely of metal, the heel sharpened to a razor's edge and easily capable of splitting her head open. If Melanie had any intention to actually hurt her, the damage would've been _much_ worse, but the woman had pulled back at the last second when she realized where her blow would land. It didn't save the blonde from the strike but it _did_ make explaining it much easier on them both.

"I… suppose that makes more sense. Tilt your head back." Yang readily complied, her left eye falling shut as cool fingertips traced along her upper eyelid, towards the outside corner of her eye and up to the brow. The chill from before followed, spreading through her skin and pulling another soft sigh from her lips. "Is it feeling better?"

"Yeah." She looked at Weiss, her right eye opening farther than it had before. "Looks like you have a healing touch."

Her wife rolled her eyes. "If that was your idea of a joke, it was terrible. If not, I'd rather not know I have that ability than find out _this_ way."

"It's just a little scratch."

Her gaze was directed up into stern blue eyes. "If it _was_ a 'little scratch', I'd still be worried." Whatever comment Yang might've had died as a finger pressed against her lips. "Let me put it this way: your pain is my pain. Understand?"

She smiled, lips pulling wider when the woman returned the expression before attending to her wound once more. "I'll be more careful next time."

"God willing, there won't _be_ a next time." Weiss dabbed lightly at the apple of her cheek. Washing it off in the stream hadn't done nearly as much as her wife's gentle tending, the cold from before reaching deeper until it sparked something entirely different. The familiar heat of her chi surged forth, kindled by her wife's touch, and she took a deep breath as it spread through her body, washing away the lingering aches and pains from her day spent fighting as well as the urge to shiver.

"Wow," she said, releasing her breath in a long sigh. "You're a _very_ fast learner." Weiss made a questioning noise in the back of her throat, drawing back as the blonde ran a hand through her hair, able to open her right eye fully now. Only a little swelling remained, which would likely be gone by morning. "You used your semblance to call mine back; it's the same thing I did to bring yours out."

"I… didn't even notice. I mean- it wasn't something I did consciously." After a moment's hesitation, the woman reached for Ember Celica, fingers expertly manipulating the buckles on her right wrist. "I… suppose I can't quite control it yet."

"That's alright." The blonde smiled, sliding her right forearm out of the cestus. "Once you- once _both of us_ are fully healed, we can do some more training together. Conscious control of one's semblance is learned through disciplined practice and _this_ part, I'm pretty good at!" Weiss paused while undoing the straps on her left, her expression turning thoughtful. Yang furrowed her brows slightly, confused by the absence of a response. "I mean, if that's okay?"

Her wife seemed to snap out of it, favoring her with a small smile. "Yes, of course. I look forward to it."

Her left cestus was pulled away in short order, both set on the dresser next to Myrtenaster, and the woman grabbed the bowl and cloth while Yang changed into her pajamas- a silk set dyed in gold with dragons twining around the arms and trailing down her back. She did her best to bite back a yawn, pulling the blanket down lower and laying down to allow her weary muscles their first taste of the impending rest, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for Weiss to return.

Then, they could… just settle down… for sleep… and…

* * *

Yang woke with a start, blinking at the faint sunlight streaming in through the window and groaning. She'd woken up just a little later than she normally would, which wasn't really a problem, until she noticed something: she usually slept on her side, with her wife pressed up against her chest and sleeping peacefully. Ever since finding out that the position seemed to cure her incessant snoring, she did her best to make it her new sleeping habit for the Atlesian's sake.

Right now, she was flat on her back.

"Oh no."

"Good. You're awake." Weiss' voice- thick and more than a little agitated- made her wince and turn her head. Much to her surprise, the woman was pressed against her side, head resting on the blonde's shoulder with an arm wrapped around her waist. She must've come back from putting up the bowl and cloth to find Yang passed out and simply laid down beside her. In slumber, she'd curled one arm around her wife's shoulders, keeping them pressed close despite the unusual position. "I want you to know something."

She swallowed, bracing herself for the impending lecture. "Y-yeah?"

The Atlesian pushed herself up, looming over Yang with her hair cascading over one shoulder, half lidded blue eyes shining bright despite the early hour. "I _am_ more stubborn than any mere bear." She dropped back down and shifted onto her side, offering her back to the blonde. "Now roll onto your side so we can _both_ get some sleep."

She immediately complied, wrapping an arm around Weiss waist and pulling her in close, pressing a soft kiss against pure white locks. "Sorry about that, Snowfall."

"Oh, hush; you needed the rest far more than I did." Her wife laid an arm over hers, squeezing her wrist softly while stifling a yawn. "But I _would_ like a nap before going down for breakfast."

Yang smiled, humming softly and closing her eyes. Sleep wouldn't come but she lightly dozed while her mind wandered, jumping from topic to topic without any rhyme or reason. A few things stuck in her mind, though, and she stashed them away for later, when she could talk to her father about them. Eventually, her thoughts turned to the woman in her arms, and how the Maidens had smiled upon her when they'd arranged the strings of fate to bring the two together. She guessed anyone else would've probably taken her offer to break their bonds the night of the wedding or, for those who wouldn't, they would still be livid over this whole fiasco, but not Weiss. With a sort of grace the blonde admired, she'd risen above the ill effects of the tea and her fear, completely tossed aside the idea of resentment and grudges, and couldn't even act a little bit selfish when Yang had fallen asleep, sprawled out across the mattress.

She moved slightly, nuzzling further into pure white locks and taking a deep breath, drawing in the faint scent of lilac that she now strongly associated with her wife.

* * *

Author's Note: Things are getting better... kinda.


	7. Offense and Defense

**Disclaimer:** Let's have some fun.

* * *

A cold wind whipped through the trees, rustling bare branches and sending a few dead ones tumbling to the ground while dense grey clouds churned overhead, obscuring the sunlight and adding to the dreary feel of the day. In Atlas, such weather would be considered mild at worst and pleasant at best, a welcomed reprieve from the harsh storms that ushered in the cold season and brought snow up to one's knees and waist, but here in Vale, many residents took it as a sign that the winter would be severe, the children staying indoors while the adults bundled themselves in layers of clothing against the low temperatures. Smoke billowed up from every house in the village and a thinner column rose from the spot in the forest where the blonde's childhood home stood, but Weiss couldn't help but feel grateful they weren't inside.

Despite living in the warmer country for months, she could still feel the lingering effects from her homeland and opted for a much different ensemble compared to the others; she wore a simple, long sleeved white dress that brushed the tops of her shoes, the fabric split at the waist to allow ease of movement, and thin white pants to match, both with light blue around the hems and the little wooden ties fastened at her shoulder. Faintly- so much so she hadn't noticed herself until running her hands over the fabric- a dragon design was stitched into the dress with white thread, its tail curling around one ankle and wrapping around her waist, sweeping its way up so its neck slipped over one shoulder and the head rested over her heart. On her back, blue thread outlined her customary snowflake, and while the whole outfit was probably intended for spring or early fall, she couldn't help but relish the sharp bite of cold air filtering through the silk, a faint reminder of her home without the unwanted memories of cold, empty halls and even colder eyes.

Yang, on the other hand, looked like a knight in soft armor, bracing against the weather as best she could. Gloves and thick boots accompanied her heavy cloak and the extra tunic she wore under her vest, all dyed brown or a faded yellow, and Ember Celica's straps had to be loosened a hole to accommodate the extra padding. She even had the orange fabric Ember Celica usually rested upon while they slept wrapped around her neck and pulled up, the hood of her cloak down low to shield her face and leaving all but the sliver of skin around her eyes hidden away.

The weather had turned much colder in the days following their reconciliation, forcing the blonde out into the forest alongside her father and Ghira to help harvest the last of the wood needed before winter began in earnest. Weiss wasn't left without things to do, of course. She moved about the house while the others were out, regaining her strength and endurance along the way, and she managed to find some old books that helped further her written Valen, the characters simple enough for her to copy and understand. When the three returned bearing bundles of wood bound by leather straps, she helped stack the extras by the house and took the rest into the village with her wife, passing them out to those who needed them. News of her recovery preceded her, with many of the villagers offering her little tokens and charms in addition to whatever they gave Yang as trade for the wood, and now she had a nice little collection of various trinkets beseeching the Fall Maiden's mercy arranged on the dresser where Myrtenaster rested. After their burdens were distributed, they returned to the little house while the sun began to set and settled in for the night. The Atlesian had insisted Yang write a letter to Blake before the Faunus returned to his kingdom, so Yang spent the time bent over a scroll, brush in hand as she tried to word her message without reflecting her lingering frustrations, while Taiyang and Weiss prepared dinner side-by-side, and Ghira regaled the lot of them with stories from Menagerie and his own versions of the Valen legends he'd learned when younger. Then, Taiyang would challenge her after dinner to the strange game of red and yellow pieces, their matches sometimes lasting late into the night and requiring them to wait until the following day to continue.

However, things had to change eventually, and the Faunus deemed her fully recovered and left to bear the blonde's letter the previous day. One would think her wife would feel more at peace now that everything returned to normal, yet, Yang seemed more eager now than ever, rising with the winter sun and gently prodding her to leave the warmth of their bed.

"So, are you ready to train today?" She looked up, lilac eyes peeking out from under the hood. "I know it's not ideal conditions-"

"That can't be helped." The Atlesian feigned thoughtfulness as the wind picked up again, prompting Yang to turn her gaze skyward and watch the clouds for a moment. While the blonde was distracted, she studied the woman's posture, noticing she seemed far more relaxed now that they were back in the clearing. From what she could gather, it was the first time Yang had returned to the space since their reconciliation, her eyes having healed almost too quickly to be believed.

It still boggled her mind how the woman could be so adamant about being forgiven when she'd done nothing wrong but Weiss accepted that, in the end, it didn't really matter. The warrior bore her no ill will and promised to make amends when the Faunus princess next came to visit, so granting unnecessary forgiveness to put the events behind them seemed a small price to pay. Though, if she was brutally honest with herself, she rather liked how everything turned out; for as horribly as things might've gone, the Atlesian instead found herself looking at her wife in a new light.

Perhaps it had something to do with the way Yang had doted on her while she could hardly control her own body, tucking her in and lending her heat whenever needed, making sure she felt safe and grounded even while lost to the fog of her fever. Or how readily she consented to having her wound tended with just a pointed look or two, as if she felt absolutely no shame in letting the Atlesian treat her with the same care despite being a strong, decorated warrior. Then again, it could very well be the mental picture now stuck in her mind of the fearsome warrior hiding behind her while a harmless garden spider crawled across the floor that continuously struck her as… charming. It reminded her of the blonde's honest blush when confessing the meaning of her joke the night of their wedding ceremony, the open fury on her features while cursing the former King of Atlas for his transgressions against Weiss, the genuine alarm in her voice when she realized she'd fallen dead asleep while snoring loud enough to rattle the panes of the window in their bedroom- a very endearing sort of fallibility she appreciated more and more with every passing day.

It might be all those things, which culminated in the realization that Yang Xiao Long, warrior Queen of Vale, stood as exactly the opposite of what Atlas would consider a proper noble. She accepted her faults- especially the ones that only _she_ thought of as such- she never failed to be open and honest, and it seemed her sense of fairness skewed in the favor of whoever she dealt with rather than herself. The novelty of it all still hadn't worn off. Weiss' father would have a heart attack were any child of his to act in a similar fashion.

Well, a daughter of Atlas she may be, but embracing a few of her new kingdom's customs seemed appropriate, and the one she wanted to exemplify today stemmed from that reassuring touch and warmth she'd felt while being thrown from one extreme to another, the genuine care with which the blonde had treated her when she was at her weakest. She wanted to repay that, and despite how calm Yang looked now, Weiss could still see the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers seemed a hair's breadth away from curling into fists. Every time they settled down for bed, she could feel the restless energy running through the blonde's frame.

It would be easier, she eventually decided, to burn off some of that energy before trying to discuss anything. "Where should we start?"

"We start with principles," Yang replied, tapping a finger against her temple. "Your semblance is part of you- your very spirit released and honed like any blade, but a sword's no good if the person holding it doesn't understand how it's meant to be used." The blonde looked around, shaking herself as if to ward off the chill in the air despite her layers. "Let's go through the forms as a warm-up."

She nodded, settling into her stance, dimly aware of Myrtenaster pressing against her hip. Wearing her weapon again after the few days of bed rest felt odd at first, like suddenly becoming aware of a limb that had fallen asleep, turning and flexing the newly rediscovered muscles until everything felt right again. Across from her, with about four feet between them, stood the blonde, mirroring her position. On an unspoken count, they began moving, flowing from one position to another as reflections. By this point, she didn't question which of them moved first- if she followed the warrior's lead or vice versa. The motions felt natural, repetition making them familiar despite the comparatively short amount of time she'd had to study them- methodical, measured, calming- and her breathing slowed to match the rhythm of each transition, finding comfort in the practice.

"Have I ever told you how good your form is?"

"You've called me beautiful before, yes," she replied, lifting the corner of her mouth in a smirk. "Or did you mean something else?"

Yang blinked, surprise shining bright in lilac orbs before she chuckled. "Oh, so someone has jokes, is that it?"

"I've learned more than just exercises and breathing techniques from you." Both of them slid from one pose to the next, shifting from being as fluid as water to solid as stone, then light as the breeze and, in brief flashes, quick as a flame. The forms corresponded with the Maidens- the guiding deities the Valens turned to- and the entire exercise emphasized how they worked together to create the whole. While she didn't personally subscribe to the religious connotations, Weiss could appreciate the story they wove. "Your teaching skills are superb, by the way. Perhaps I've mentioned that?"

"You have, but you forget: _I_ have an excellent student." The blonde twisted her hips in time, so they stood side-by-side, and the two took steps forward in tandem while moving through the later forms.

Their feet brushed across the barren ground, any grass that might've once grown there long ago trampled by Yang's use of the clearing, each step muted in the cold morning air. They twisted and turned, following the poses until the final one, which brought them both back to center, once again standing across from one another, though… it certainly _looked_ like they'd drifted closer, somehow.

Not that she was complaining, of course.

Together, they drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, allowing the tension to flow from their muscles, ready to begin the training in earnest.

"Can you feel your semblance?" Through her scarf, the blonde's breath came out as wisps of white fog, curling in front of her face like smoke. "Where is it?"

"Yes, it's…" Weiss closed her eyes briefly, acutely aware of the familiar chill thrumming through her body, at harmony with the cold of the season while remaining distinct. Ever since falling under the tea's sway, she'd been able to feel the cold within her easily, as if it couldn't quite retreat to wherever it hid before. However, right now she could feel a concentration of the internal energy resting in her chest, and she brought one hand up to hover over the point. "It's everywhere, but strongest here."

"That's great!" Her eyes sparkled like gems, conveying the mile wide smile currently hidden from view. "You've got the two most important parts down, then. First, you have to know _what_ it is. Then, _where_ it is." She lifted her arms, curling her hands into tight fists and allowing them to hover in front of her face. As she shifted to the balls of her feet, the air around her rippled, the cold driven back as steam began to rise off her clothes while lilac morphed into blood red. "It's a part of you, in every bone and muscle and your very skin, ebbing and flowing with every heartbeat, and controlling it is second nature, like breathing." The blonde threw a few jabs at the air- quick strikes that Weiss almost couldn't follow with her eyes- as her feet danced beneath her as she battled an imaginary opponent. As she drew near to one edge of the clearing, the warrior reared back, eyes sharpening to throw a punch aimed at a nearby tree that never actually made contact, heat rippling out from the points of her knuckles and somehow turning the withered bark black as the dried wood began to smoke and smolder. The Atlesian nearly stepped back in surprise; of all the times she'd felt the fire burning within her wife's soul, she'd never imagined it could manifest in such a destructive manner. All those reports- stories her father passed off as shaken soldiers allowing their imaginations to run wild- depicting the Queen of Vale as a dragonspawn wreathed in flame seemed much more accurate than before. After a moment, Yang drew back from the tree, taking another deep breath and releasing it slowly. "Your semblance is a weapon that needs only a thought to be drawn; if you know what it is and where it is, you can wield it with just as much ease as you move Myrtenaster." She chuckled, her stance relaxing. "After all, the best defense is a good offense."

Pale brows furrowed. "You mean, the best offense is a good defense."

"Uh… no?" The blonde chuckled nervously, obviously replaying the words in her head to ensure she'd said the right thing. Satisfied she hadn't misspoken, she coughed into her hand. "Is… that what you were taught?"

"Of course," she replied, absolutely certain of her answer. "For centuries, Atlas has faced threats from within and without our borders- the other, former nations of Mantle, the ferocious beasts that roam the remote regions, raiders and bandits- and we have maintained a strong standing army to defend ourselves against them. It's how my father unified Mantle when the civil war erupted."

A small pause followed her words where the other woman fidgeted, looking almost nervous and also a little confused. "Well, that… explains a lot." Brows creasing in concern, the Atlesian took a step forward, silently bidding her wife continue. "During the later parts of the invasion, Atlas' soldiers would land on Vale's shores and try to build fortifications, or turn our existing structures into ones." She spread her hands. "But this is our home and each one of us is capable of fighting. We outmaneuvered them, rendered their defenses useless, and struck when they were exhausted from the effort of trying to turn our own land into unfamiliar territory. We had no strong defense to speak of ourselves- no walls to hide behind- but every time Atlas soldiers mounted an attack, we met them with greater force and broke their ranks, turned their neat lines into chaos, and they couldn't recover." Lilac met blue briefly before being redirected towards the ground. "With an emphasis on defense, Atlas stands strong against invasions, like an aegis. But aggressive action requires the force and decisiveness of a blade's edge. The blunt strength of a shield can only do so much damage; it takes wielding it just right to get the same effect."

"I suppose you have a point. The other nations of Mantle had comparatively smaller forces than Atlas. We overwhelmed them; had the armies been evenly matched… I'm not sure we would've triumphed." She conceded, shoulders falling slightly at the reminder of her father's foolishness. "We truly stood no chance at successfully invading Vale, did we?" Immediately, she shook her head, refocusing on the task at hand. "It doesn't matter. My former countrymen couldn't manifest their semblance the way Valens can, so I suppose it's a moot point."

"Well, there's still a lesson to be learned from that way of thinking. It all comes down to discipline, really." Yang stepped towards her, lightly laying her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders. "When I say 'the best defense is a good offense', I mean that drawing out your semblance is, in itself, an aggressive action. It's pulling a weapon that formerly hadn't been brought to bear out into the open, like unsheathing a blade. You might only use it to block or parry, but that's still your sword doing the work. Does that make sense?"

She bit her lip, looking down at the ground between them. "I… think?"

"That's okay; it'll become clearer with time. It's just a mentality you're not used to," the blonde said, crossing her arms over her chest. "But, I think there's something inside of you that understands it on a deeper level. I caught a few glances your way while you dueled Blake; she couldn't break your defense and, when your semblance manifested, it acted as a shield, blocking Adam's attack. Now that I know how heavily your people emphasized defense, that makes sense- it's how you're naturally inclined to manifest your energy."

As much as it pained her to admit such, she couldn't quite take pride in that assessment. "She got very close a few times."

"Maybe, but 'very close' is as good as 'not', in that case. I can't tell you how many times I've almost had an ax or a sword slice into my throat, or an arrow embedded in my back." She held up a hand, keeping her thumb and forefinger just slightly apart. "Sometimes, only _that much_ separates you from death- it's the difference between a missed attack and a killing blow."

She raised a brow at the word choice. It seemed strange to her, how easily Yang spoke of the dance with death. It reminded her of the difference between their homelands, how Atlesians looked at war as a grim but ultimately necessary tool to expand their nation's borders and defend against the 'barbaric' peoples of the world. Valens, meanwhile, thought of it as an integral part of life, another form of the eternal struggle between opposing forces. Day and night, light and dark, hot and cold- Taiyang had gone on at length about them while teaching her the encircling game but never in a negative light, as if such a thing shouldn't exist. It simply did. "I suppose it comes down to strength, then?"

"Or speed. Or skill. Or cunning." The blonde moved, holding both arms out wide before curling her hands into fists and bringing them up. The effect was lessened by the layers of clothing she wore but Weiss could still make out the bulges of hard won muscles straining against the fabric, drawing tight across her arms and chest, almost as if she might rip the very seams. "Strength is my approach of choice, obviously, but it doesn't have to be yours." She heard the smile in her wife's voice and continued staring long after both arms dropped. "You'll figure out how to wield the weapon once you have a firm grip on it, when you can feel its heft and balance for yourself. What matters is that you're decisive when wielding it and, unlike any other weapon, your semblance will never leave your hand; you can only be disarmed if you allow your spirit to be broken."

She met the warrior's gaze, brows pinching together, feeling as if Yang was talking in circles. "Then how _do_ I draw it? How do I _control_ it?"

"Easy." The warrior shifted her stance, moving her right foot back and raising both fists. "You need to tag me."

"Excuse me?"

"Tag me." She shrugged, a little lost as to how to explain. "You know. A punch, a slap- just get a hand on me somehow." Then she pulled down her scarf enough to flash a little grin. "And if you actually manage to knock me to the ground, I'll give you a kiss." Almost too quick to catch, something flashed across Yang's expression, eyes widening and her lips quivering before they pulled a little wider. A month or more ago, she might've been fooled, but Weiss could tell when her wife was faking cheer to keep others from being concerned by this point. She'd seen it enough during the journey back to Patch. "Or maybe breakfast in bed, or I can cook dinner one night? I'm a pretty good chef."

Ah, so that was it. Narrowing her eyes, Weiss settled into a stance of her own- a fencer's pose, the same discipline Yatsuhashi had taught her what seemed like a lifetime ago- with her left arm outstretched towards her opponent and her right curled into a fist at the small of her back. How he came by the knowledge escaped her but he taught her well and she wouldn't disappoint. After all, how different could a game of this 'tag' be from a duel? "I accept your challenge."

Lilac eyes brightened, her guard lowering ever so slightly to beckon her forward with both hands. "Alright. You have until lunch. Now, let's see what you got."

She didn't move, biding her time and analyzing the situation. Yatsuhashi had warned against such goads when first instructing her during the journey to Patch; he emphasized striking only when she felt ready, never allowing another to dictate her motions or else forfeit the battle before it began.

"From great wars to solitary duels- in the end, all conflict is decided by who retains control," he'd said, holding his large greatsword perfectly level with one hand. It stood as tall as he did, weighed more than she could carry, and gleaned under the fading sun like the strange, staggered pauldron that covered his off arm and functioned as a shield. "If you sacrifice control of self, you will never gain control of the conflict."

While this may not be as serious a battle, the test laid before her required her utmost attention, studying the way the blonde awaited her opening maneuver. Weight on the balls of her feet, hands up, her center of balance high and evenly dispersed. Bringing her down wouldn't be easy… but it _was_ possible.

As the wind picked up, she rushed forward, darting her hand low to get beneath the woman's guard. She missed, the blonde skipping back a step and rolling to her right to dodge the obvious follow up swipe, and so they began their dance around the clearing. Weiss pressed forward relentlessly, trying to back the warrior into a tree, but just when she thought all avenues of escape were cut off, Yang would surprise her- jumping clear over her head accompanied by a blast of heat, sliding beneath her outstretched arm, stopping her momentum too quick for the smaller woman to do the same, steam streaming behind her in wisps. Always maintaining her balance, the upper hand, and always with that little grin in place- she was having fun as the Atlesian's frustration mounted. As the smaller of the two, one would think she could move quicker, change direction easier, but she found herself thwarted with every attempt. If she darted to the left, so would Yang, somehow anticipating her actions the moment she decided on them, remaining just out of arm's reach. Simply thrusting her arms forward never worked- the blonde would dodge to one side or another and skip a few steps away- and swinging horizontally or vertically produced similar results.

Defending was always the easier of the two sides to pick, in her opinion. Assess your weaknesses, decide if they should be strengthened or intentionally weakened to draw in the enemy, and keep your greatest strength a closely guarded secret. When attacking, one had to be ruthlessly efficient, because the opponent would capitalize on every mistake, every extra bit of expended energy gone to waste, and Weiss could feel the sweat dripping from her brow as they continued variations of the same dance all over the clearing, with her wife sometimes ducking behind trees to create distance. Her breath started to burn her lungs, begging her to stop, but she pressed forward, pushing aside everything; she would not be so easily defeated.

Through it all, Yang was careful, never using her forearms to block or redirect the Atlesian's momentum. The metal of her cestus gleamed in the weak light of the sun peaking through heavy clouds, the barbs designed to catch blades and shred skin never coming even close to Weiss. If anything, the blonde seemed to keep her arms up out of habit, muscle memory burned too deep to be set aside despite the obvious effort made to merely duck and dodge rather than counterattack. Theoretically, it should've made the warrior's movements more predictable, easier to gauge, limiting her in reactions and freeing her opponent to go all out in pursuit of her goals.

Reality, however, proved her wrong at nearly every turn.

The longer the exercise went on, the heavier she breathed, not used to nearly so much movement and just a week past being on bed rest. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, each breath scorching as she sucked it in, trying desperately to catch just the fabric of her wife's vest if nothing else, but even that eluded her. For her part, Yang seemed a bit amused, her smile never dimming and her breathing not nearly as labored despite the sheen of sweat collecting on her face, bangs becoming plastered to her forehead.

Finally, her frustration mounted, and she realized the only way she would possibly win this little game would be to force the blonde to react to a move she didn't plan to make. She would have to change her momentum before her wife could register it; she had to rely on not just speed but her ability to misdirect. With her plan firmly set in mind, Weiss lunged to her right, and the other woman, of course, broke the other way. Then she did it again, and again, until they were circling the clearing in an odd shape, straight jagged lines cut every time the Atlesian struck towards the right and her quarry skipped away. In those lilac eyes, she could see that Yang knew what she planned- had to, she'd done nothing to hide it- and seemed ready to break to the right the moment she gave an indication that she would switch her pattern.

She lifted her left hand, clearly expressing her intent, and her wife read it immediately, shifting her weight to break back towards the Atlesian's right, but waiting for her to commit first. Which she did, beginning her lunge to the left, prompting Yang to move the other way. However, that first change in direction brought with it a slightly shorter back step, something she'd noticed throughout the exhausting exercise. In that moment, her resolve solidified, the cold energy within her pushing out and invigorating every muscle, and Weiss capitalized on it, jumping back to her right and throwing herself forward.

Lilac eyes widened in surprise as the woman's arms immediately went behind her, preparing to break their fall, because while she'd finally figured out how to beat the warrior at her game, she didn't quite take the most graceful option. Her shoulder slammed into the blonde's chest, both of them going to the ground as neither could keep their balance, landing with her wife flat on her back and Weiss somewhat curled up on top of her.

The warrior groaned, raising a hand to her head where she'd hit the ground hard, prompting the smaller woman to push herself up using her arms. "Yang? Are you alright?"

"Yeah." She chuckled, smiling up at the Atlesian. "I knew you could do it."

Puffing out a breath, Weiss shook her head, sitting up and just barely registering that she now effectively straddled the woman beneath her before she spoke. "As amusing as it may be to you, I'm not sure what it accomplished." She crossed her arms over her chest, surprised to find that she wasn't gasping for air, a stark contrast to hardly a minute ago. She felt a little tired, perhaps, but her muscles weren't complaining and her breath came even and steady. Strange. "But I expect to receive my reward regardless." A pause followed as she weighed her words, looking down into her wife's lilac eyes before speaking. "You promised me a kiss."

They hadn't spoken about it. Noble Atlesian wedding ceremonies carried few traditions outside of the giving of gifts, the exchanging of rings, and the eventual bedding; frankly, more concern was given to the seating of guests and displaying the proper heraldry than the ceremony itself. Vale, in contrast, had many nuances to their unions- the burning of incense, the chanting of the soothsayer, the exchanging of weapons, and on the list went- but physical affection… well, in the kingdom across the sea, the bedding itself served as all that would be required on that front, aside from the necessary task of providing heirs. In Vale, she couldn't tell. The villagers of Patch seemed affectionate, often exchanging kisses in greeting or farewell, giving hugs freely to family members and friends, and sometimes the children would even run through the streets and latch onto whatever adult didn't have their hands full.

But Yang didn't push one way or another. She initiated some contact, yes- brief embraces to comfort, chaste kisses to the top of her head to reassure, a lingering touch on her arm for guidance- but never asked for anything to be reciprocated, and Weiss certainly hadn't taken the lead in opening up the discussion.

Except when they were sleeping. The night of their bedding, she'd allowed her wife to hold her, telling herself that it was only for the practicality of the position- to keep the dreaded snoring at bay- but the night her wife returned to the bedroom with her eye nearly cut to the bone and swollen shut proved otherwise. While the blonde slept, she'd gathered her courage and laid down beside her, curling around the solid warmth and pressing a soft kiss to Yang's forehead, even as she began to snore. She'd already spent enough time acutely aware of how empty the bed felt without her wife and hoped the woman wouldn't begrudge her the comfort. Which she didn't, initiating their usual contact upon waking, and the sleepy apology that followed never failed to pull a small smile from her whenever she thought of it.

So, this would be new- a new challenge to overcome, a new boundary to test. With luck, perhaps it would chase away those lingering agitations that plagued the woman. Even if it didn't… she felt like it was something they'd have to address eventually. Might as well test the waters now, to better prepare herself later.

Surprise showed plain in the blonde's face, which was almost immediately overtaken by a broad grin. "Yeah, I did. But first…" One brow raised. "How did you change direction without touching the ground?" Thrown off by the question, the Atlesian looked towards the spot, expecting to see some mark from where she'd pushed off- because she _did_ touch the ground, had to, in order to push off with enough force to cut Yang off and then spring forward- but instead found the fading remnants of her family sigil, the white snowflake slowly breaking apart and disappearing into nothingness. She stared, mouth popping open as her jaw went slack, confused as to how she'd managed to conjure such a thing without thinking. "Using your semblance is second nature, like breathing." As Weiss continued staring, the woman beneath her shifted, pushing herself up into a sitting position without forcing the Atlesian from her lap. "But you breathe subconsciously long before you're able to control it."

She remembered how the cold spread through her in an instant, her own soul surging in response to her plan, ensuring that the moment she needed to move, she could. Decisive, the blonde had called it, an aggressive action- now she understood that Yang hadn't meant that she should focus on attacking someone to draw it out. The energy within her could be both sword and shield, and even more- it could take whatever form she needed. Right then, she needed something solid to push off of, and her chi immediately provided that, just like it blocked the bull horned Faunus what seemed like a short lifetime ago. It functioned as an extension of her will just like Myrtenaster served as her arm.

"I… I did that." She spoke out of awe more than disbelief, yet the edges of her voice lilted just slightly, almost indicating a question.

"Of course you did." Then the blonde moved, leaning forward and pressing her lips to one pale cheek while Weiss' gaze remained focused on the slowly dissipating snowflake, which winked out of existence the moment she realized what was happening. She stiffened at first, surprised, but realized that she should've expected such- Yang would take whatever option demanded the least from the other woman- and relaxed, waiting for the blonde to draw away before turning her head. At first, lilac eyes stayed hidden beneath her sweat slicked bangs, her head tilted down. "I knew you could."

"Thank you," she replied, gently slipping a hand beneath her wife's chin and coaxing her gaze up. When their eyes met, she could see the faint blush in the warrior's cheeks and it curled her own lips into a soft smile. For a moment, she thought about leaning forward and initiating a kiss herself- it would only take a few inches- but something held her back. A chiding tutor's voice echoing in the back of her mind, chastising her for giving those peasant fancies a passing thought, saying such public displays were uncouth, unseemly, and barbaric. She didn't care for those half forgotten lessons nearly as much as she once did... but other voices echoed in her mind and she hesitated.

Something must've shown- or perhaps nothing did, but the warrior Queen was always extremely perceptive- because Yang raised a hand, cupping the cheek she'd just kissed and allowing her thumb to slide towards pale lips. "Next time?"

Lilac met blue, the remainder of the words left unspoken but understood regardless. "Next time."

"Okay." Through the brightening of her blush, the blonde's smile stretched wide. "How about we take a break?" Weiss nodded, carefully extracting herself and offering a hand to help the other woman up, leaning back to act as a counterbalance to the warrior's superior weight. Upon standing, Yang took a step back and curled her right hand into a loose fist, laying her left over it and bowing her head, motions which the Atlesian quickly copied, having temporarily forgotten how the Valens ended their friendly sparring matches since her last bout with Yatsuhashi. When they straightened up, the blonde stepped forward and carefully put a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding them towards a small bundle she'd brought with them. "I, uh, packed us a lunch."

"When?" Not that Weiss wasn't grateful, seeing as she'd suddenly become aware that all that exertion had worked up her appetite. She'd chased her wife around the clearing for hours, the sun now high overhead despite being obscured by the clouds. "We left so quickly this morning…"

"Last night, while you were bathing." Yang cleared her throat, almost seeming like she had more to say but instead turning her attention to the package, revealing two bowls with rice and two more filled with steamed dumplings, plus two little bottles.

"You brought _wine_ to training?"

"I brought it for celebration." The blonde smiled wide, sitting down and crossing her legs. Her wife invited the Atlesian to join her, which she did, tucking her legs beneath her and accepting one set of bowls and a bottle of the sweet rice wine. Although she couldn't drink it with the same enthusiasm the warrior did, she'd grown a bit fonder of it over the past few months. "I had a feeling you'd be able to get the hang of it before we stopped for our first break." She chuckled. "You're too stubborn to have quit before then."

Weiss brushed some dirt from her knee before opening the bowl with the dumplings, picking one out with her chopsticks and holding it a moment to raise a brow at her wife. "I might've passed out."

"Then it would be a pick-me-up when you regained consciousness!" Yang teasingly clicked her sticks together before starting on her bowl of rice.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Ever the optimist."

They ate in silence a while, the heat from their activities protecting them from their cooling sweat. With just the clinking of wood against ceramic and the wind blowing through the dead trees, she had plenty of time to consider her next actions carefully. Now seemed to be as good a time as any to address her concerns, both of them in high spirits after making such progress, but… was it wrong for her to want to hold onto that feeling a little longer? Surely she could put things off another day or two without any detriment. She didn't want to come off as intrusive- her wife continued to be patient and respectful of her every wish, and it would only be fair for her to be the same- yet she'd also promised to be more forthcoming on the things that plagued her mind, and this certainly had over the past few days. Curiosity mixed with a bitter sort of understanding- she didn't expect to be surprised by the answers she sought yet still felt inclined to ask.

Shouldn't she just leave the matter alone?

"Is something on your mind?" She looked up, now aware that her contemplative silence hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I… have a question, actually." Yang tilted her head, enough of an indication for her to continue. "Who is Summer?"

She didn't expect a particular reaction, aside from either remorse or anger, but braced herself anyway.

What she got… troubled her.


	8. Summer

**Disclaimer:** For those who aren't entirely aware, I do indeed live in Texas. Due to Hurricane Harvey, there's a chance I may be called to assist in relief efforts (personally, I'm fine, and my family is okay for the moment). In the event of that happening, I will not be able to post, and I'm not sure how much notice I'll get if I do get called. So, if I miss an update, assume that's what happened and I'll be back to my regular schedule as soon as possible. Oh, and though I generally don't do this, warning: Yang will be reliving some moments from the war with Atlas here. I focus more on the emotions than the graphic depictions, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. If you're especially sensitive to that sort of thing, proceed with caution; the mentions are relatively brief.

* * *

Yang froze, the bowl halfway to her lips shaking enough to splash a bit of broth onto her leather vest and lap. She hardly registered it, her gaze shifting to her wife and searching for something, though she wasn't sure what. There was nothing but cautious curiosity in those blue eyes, and she could tell that all it would take would be a gruff response from her for the conversation to be dropped entirely. "Who told you?"

"Your father," Weiss replied, setting her empty bowl aside. "He told me to ask whenever we came to the clearing again." She folded her hands in her lap, squaring her shoulders. "I shouldn't have-"

"No." The blonde growled and raised a hand, a heavy sigh escaping her lips a moment later. She should've known her father would catch on to what she'd been doing since they returned from war. While she didn't like that he'd chosen _this_ way to confront her about it, keeping the story from her wife would do no one any good. "It's alright. It's just… hard." Yang busied herself with setting aside their bowls and bottles, forcing herself to swallow down the last wonton. "You deserve to hear the story. But…" She paused, grabbing the cloth she'd used to pack up their lunch while she searched for the right words. "I think…"

A small hand laid on her forearm, drawing her attention up to Weiss' soft, encouraging smile. She'd started seeing the expression more since they exchanged forgiveness and it stoked the fluttering butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach ever since it looked like the woman might kiss her, might _want_ to be kissed _by_ her. "Take your time."

Those two little words spoken in crisp Valen were all she needed to steady herself, covering her wife's hand with her own and grounding herself in the moment. "Thank you." A small, grateful smile curled her lips as she switched back to her mother tongue. It seemed only fitting. "Follow me. There's something I have to show you."

They both got up, the blonde leading the way towards one specific little deer path on the north side of the clearing, stopping only to move aside a piece of bark from one of the trees to reveal a little cubby hole she'd carved out years ago. Within were sticks of jasmine incense, little oranges Junior had sent to her from the mainland, and a stack of papers with Valen prayers written on them. She pulled out four of each before replacing the bark, mentally making a note to ask for more sheets when next she was called to one of the temples. It couldn't be much longer until the summons arrived, anyway. Setting the items inside the cloth, she tied it to her belt before continuing.

"I, uh, I think it's better to start from the beginning." Yang kept her eyes on the trail as they started moving, hoping the focus would keep her voice steady. Truthfully, she could follow it in her sleep, and spent more than one moonless night out in the woods when sleep eluded her. "My family's history, well, it's yours now, too."

"If you feel comfortable, I'll listen," Weiss replied, offering her a chance to turn back, set the whole thing aside for another day. She had no doubt the Atlesian would let her do it, too, and it was a thoughtful gesture, but her wife wasn't the only one prone to stubbornness when the situation called for it.

"Before the wars, my family were simple people. My grandpa was a woodsman, Dad was his apprentice, and it was their job to maintain the woods. They would cut down trees- the ones that were sick, or had grown too large, or were felled by storms- and plant news ones to replenish them. They'd take the wood into town, so everyone had some during winter for warmth and to cook- an honest living. Back then, the other clans would come to Patch to trade for rice and wood; we can plant all year and the trees here burn longer than those on the mainland. Some say the Maidens blessed us but it's just that the soil's better." She paused, trying to get her story back on track as they rounded a curve, her eyes catching on worn claw marks along the a tree to the side of the path. The weather and years had almost healed the bark but she had no doubt Zwei would mark his territory again once he returned. Whenever that was. Ruby probably wouldn't come home after her current quest ended; she'd find another cause to adopt, another soul that needed saving, and off she'd go again. Selfless and yearning for adventure- it could be a troubling combination. "Anyway, one year, the Branwen clan sent a group to Patch for trading, and Dad met who he swore was the prettiest woman he'd ever seen." Her lips curled up, remembering the light in her father's eyes when he told her the story. "Wild hair, burning eyes, a cocky grin- Raven Branwen was everything he wanted, and she seemed to like him. Even promised to return as often as she could with the traders, and she did. Every couple months, like clockwork. He begged Grandpa for a full year before the old man relented and went to talk to Yuanjia- our clan leader at the time. It took another two months but, eventually, Yuanjia and the Branwen clan leader reached an agreement, and the wedding was set for the summer of that year." A bitter chuckle escaped as they started to climb, the path turning steeper. "He swears they did it for love."

The path cut back and forth, forcing her to lean forward and towards her inside foot to keep her balance as the incline grew steeper. Finally, the deer path fell away to one cut by an ax, going straight up the hill; Taiyang had cut it himself years ago, carving out a path through the woods and to the cliff beyond. All along the way, little bushes dotted with white flowers lined the well worn trail, and the blonde stopped to pick one, turning to offer it to the woman behind her. She'd always liked them, even though they weren't colorful or big, and now she noticed they matched the shade of Weiss' hair rather well. Among other things.

Obviously paying close attention to Yang's telling, her wife reached out and accepted the gift silently, neither goading the blonde into continuing or trying to change the subject. Just… patiently waiting.

"You don't have to be so quiet." A frown touched her lips, lilac gaze falling to the dirt between them. She preferred coming out here alone- this would mark the first time since Ruby left that she'd had company- but having the extra set of footsteps ringing in the air and another, quiet breath of exertion as they moved along the steep path seemed… right, almost. Begrudgingly, she admitted she probably should've done this sooner.

"I wouldn't want to spoil the telling." Her wife spoke softly, somber and serious. Almost like she already knew how the story went, but she doubted anyone had told the woman. "But I suppose things didn't go to plan."

"They did… and then they didn't," she replied, turning around and continuing up the path. "They were wed, just as they'd planned- and, well, in the Atlesian way, too." Thankfully, Weiss made a noise of understanding behind her; she'd' always felt a little weird thinking about that part of the story. "But, the next morning… Raven was gone. Took her sword, left his ax, and disappeared- not even the Branwens know where she went." She lifted her arms and shoulders up in a shrug, releasing the tension and letting her palms slap against her thighs. "Or so they say, anyway."

The footsteps behind her stopped, a quick breath drawn between the woman's teeth. "Yang, I-"

"Don't." She paused, looking over her shoulder and offering a small smile- the best she could muster, all things considered. It didn't take any divine powers to guess where the Atlesian's mind had gone upon hearing that, the memory of their wedding ceremony and the night following it never far from _her_ mind, either. In those blue eyes, she could see the memory replaying- lithe fingers fiddling with unfamiliar buckles, trying to loosen them to pull the cestus from thin wrists. "You didn't know. You really couldn't have, Weiss, and things worked out differently for us. No reason to dwell on it."

"Still." Her wife furrowed her brow, obviously reigning in her desire to argue the point and only barely succeeding. Rather than cede the battle or wage it in its entirety, she lifted up her unoccupied hand, offering it towards the blonde. A wordless apology that Yang found herself unable to deny, taking a few steps back to slip her larger hand into the other woman's, interlacing their fingers. Silently, they made amends for the misunderstandings of that night, the trees stripped bare during fall bearing quiet witness. "How did your father take the news?"

"According to him, he was destroyed- and I think that's putting it lightly," she replied, shoulders sagging with the memory. "Wouldn't eat, couldn't sleep, he just sat around crying and blubbering gibberish, so Grandpa sent him to the Summer temple."

"That sounds a bit extreme." Weiss remarked, though her pale lips quirked into a small grin a moment later. "And vaguely familiar."

"Well, it's something of a legend that became a tradition, really." Yang explained, suddenly feeling a little sheepish. "When we're lost- physically, emotionally, spiritually- we turn to the Maidens for guidance, and the temples are where their presence resonates strongest. Sometimes, they show the lost the way ahead, and they return home to begin their lives anew, while others are welcomed into 'spiritual enlightenment' and stay at the temples." Lilac eyes slid to her wife, trying to offer a reassuring smile. "But the temples _are_ the safest places in all of Vale; even during the clan war, no Valen would spill blood on such sacred ground. No harm would've come to you there, had you chosen to go."

"Comforting." The Atlesian lightly squeezed her hand. "But I'm rather content with the choice I made."

"I'm glad," she replied with a chuckle as they turned to continue up the path, the blonde found herself unwilling to let go of the slim hand clasped in hers as the two walked side-by-side. "And thankfully, Dad didn't take the second route, either. By the time he got to the Summer temple, though, he was weak and delirious; he collapsed on the temple's steps. Lucky for him, the Voice was there to catch him."

Weiss raised a brow. "The Voice?"

"Yeah, the head of the temple. They're said to be the 'Voice of the Maiden', and she was Summer's Voice. And they called _her_ Summer, too." The blonde nodded, sniffling slightly as a cold wind blew through the trees. "See, she was born and raised at the temple, so they gave her the Maiden's name; to them, it was only a matter of time before she became the Voice, I guess. Dad says that when he finally opened his eyes and saw Summer for the first time, he could feel the Maiden's hand reaching into him and healing his heart." A beat. "I told him it was probably just the opium."

"You did not."

The chiding in her wife's voice brought a little smile to her lips. "I did. I thought it was funny and we all needed the laugh at the time." She kept her gaze on the ground. "But opium or not, she nursed him back to health, and he actually might've stayed at the temple if the message hadn't arrived." Briefly, she glanced at her wife, seeing that the little amusement at her poor joke had slipped back into rapt attention. "Shortly after he left, Grandpa passed away. I think seeing how hurt Dad was really tore at him, like he'd failed his son somehow… and considering the talking to Dad gave _me_ when I got the proposal for our marriage, I can only imagine how hard Grandpa must've pushed back against him. Seeing himself proven right… I don't think it did well for his health, ya know?"

Caution appeared in the woman's voice again, as if she sensed where the story was heading. "So your father returned to Patch."

"Yeah, and Summer came with him. Offered to bless the burial- really, I think she just wanted to make sure he got home okay. She always looked out for other people like that- everyone called her Mother." Yang took a shaky breath as the two of them neared the top of the hill, and she stopped them for a moment to muster her strength. "Anyway, they hurried back here. Did the funeral rights. Laid Grandpa to rest. But she didn't trust Dad to take care of himself- he was almost as bad as when she first met him, by his accounts- so she insisted on staying with him at the house rather than bedding down in the tavern." She reached up and grabbed the orange fabric from around her neck. "He says they were halfway up the path when they heard the crying." Letting go of her wife's hand, she shook out the fabric, revealing the wear and tear over the years, the patches where holes had threatened to rip it to shreds and tiny, careful mends. "They ran the rest of the way and that's when they found me on the doorstep, wrapped up in this, half starved and wailing with everything I had left." Her hands curled into fists, though she remained mindful of the old fabric. Even after all these years, she couldn't bear to part with it. "Raven, she'd just… left me there. I guess she figured, if I was strong enough, I'd survive."

Her eyes squeezed closed as she forced back the tears that stung, always threatening to fall as she tried to imagine it- a babe just a month or two old, with nothing but a blanket to ward against the chill of the early spring night. Whether they were born of anger or pity, she really couldn't be sure, and for years she'd tried to understand what would possess a person to do that, what trials the woman must've faced to make the idea of leaving a child's survival up to fate the best option. It would be easy to just hate her- this mysterious Raven who disappeared into the night- but more than anything she just wanted to know _why_.

"Yang." Her gaze snapped up, seeing the concern freely playing across her wife's features. "It wasn't your fault."

The blonde blinked, for a moment entirely confused by the words. Guilt was something she'd become intimately familiar with over the course of the past several years but she'd never felt any regarding Raven. Whatever her birth mother's reasons for leaving her there at the doorstep, she'd abandoned Taiyang first, and she refused to feel remorse over the consequences of Raven's actions. No, she felt fury, unbridled rage at the shifting shadow in her mind's eye who had hurt her dad like that and had probably driven her grandpa to an early grave. Sadness, too, because she couldn't help but feel pity for someone so reckless and lost that they'd destroy so many lives- and one twice over- with their mistakes, yet lacked the courage to face the fallout.

She opened her mouth to express that but stopped just short. The blonde couldn't read everything about the other woman, but she could tell the Atlesian was at a loss. There was empathy shining in bright blue eyes and the downturn of her lips into a small frown, the crease of her brow, yet her wife seemed a bit unsure how to articulate it best. Instead of wasting time trying to find the perfect words for the situation, she'd spoken up with what first occurred to her, perhaps an unintended side effect of the difficulties with communication still fresh in both their minds.

Yang made a mental note to think about that next time she caught the woman staring off into the distance, when things seemed to weigh heavily on her mind.

"Getting left wasn't, you're right. I think I know that, deep down, but… it did change things for Dad. For Summer." The blonde sighed, gaze falling back down to the cloth in her hands.

The wind stirred the dirt around their feet and broke a thin branch overhead, sending it hurtling to land in one of the bushes with a subdued crash. Tentatively, Weiss put a hand on hers, barely touching the fabric. "Why did you keep it?"

"Mom insisted; honestly, I thought she'd made it when I was younger. She said I wouldn't go to sleep unless I had it in the crib with me and then it became my favorite blanket. I… didn't grow out of it until I was older." She lifted it up, wrapping it back around her neck. "Then, she'd do this whenever it got close to winter, so I wouldn't be cold. Some habits stick, I guess." With a sigh, the blonde nodded towards the end of the path just ahead of them. "When I say Mom, I mean Summer… Dad says she took one look at me and she just got this light in her eyes. The next morning, she went straight to Yuanjia, demanded a marriage, and sent a letter back to the Summer Temple telling them she wouldn't be returning. She married Dad and raised me as her own daughter- best mom any kid could ask for, really. Two years later, Ruby was born, and… well, we were a family. A happy one."

Finally, they emerged from the path, opening onto a small clearing that dropped off into a sheer cliff. Beyond it sprawled the fields her people used for growing crops and grazing the few animals they kept on the island- a small herd of cows, oxen, and a few horses. The forest circled the neatly divided areas, reaching to the foot of the lone mountain on their island that struck towards the sky like a sword's tip, the jagged edge obscuring a hollowed hole. It wasn't terribly deep, as she'd found out once she was strong enough to scale the rocky side of the mountain on her own, but the stench kept the villagers and birds alike away.

However, her gaze wouldn't focus on the scenery beyond the cliff's edge a mere thirty feet away. Instead, lilac eyes fell on the worn but well tended shrine built near it, the white paint chipping off the curled edges of the roof. Carved into a stone they'd hauled up from the shore was a rose, with the characters 'Thus Kindly I Scatter' etched beneath it- from her mother's favorite poem. Set above the emblem stone was a small prayer box decorated in the traditional manner for the villagers of Patch with a little flare thrown in to reflect the lands far to the south, where the Summer Maiden's temple stood, and at the base sat the offering tray.

"This was her favorite spot." The urge to cry returned and, this time, no doubts existed as to the cause. Guilt and sorrow pressed down on her shoulders, threatening to make her knees buckle, but she stood tall, forcing the words out despite how heavy they felt on her tongue. "She would bring us here after lessons to meditate. Sometimes, we'd bring food and have a picnic- she used to make these sweet cookies whenever Ghira and Kali brought us chocolate and she somehow could make it last until we got more no matter how long it took, but they always tasted so good." Yang drew in a deep breath, fighting to center herself. "We'd sit here for hours, until the sun set and the stars came out, and she'd tell us all the stories about the Maidens, and the old heroes, and anything else we asked about. Sometimes, I think she made up a story if we asked about something and she didn't know, but they were daring and exciting and funny… Mom always knew how to make us laugh."

Now that they'd reached the shrine, the wind seemed to die completely, as if knowing better than to intrude upon the moment. It always seemed to stop when she came out here, which just amplified how lonely it felt talking to the immovable stone that could never truly represent the woman buried beneath it. Ruby used to come with her, before she dashed off on her errand that never seemed to end, and Dad… he would never say anything, just stare silently beside her, so she stopped asking. He came out when he had the strength- the ashes told her as much- but if he had any words for Mom, they weren't for her to hear.

"I'm sorry, Yang." Her wife broke the silence gently, setting a hand just above her elbow. "Losing a mother twice over-"

Her gaze snapped to the side, eyes tinged red as fury overtook her and sent a cloud of steam billowing through the air. Not directed at Weiss- technically, not directed at anyone but those long dead, or close enough- but it surged forth regardless. "Raven was _never_ my mother." She spat, immediately recognizing her mistake when the Atlesian recoiled, the concern formerly pinching her brow smoothing out into that nigh inscrutable mask she still donned from time to time. A deep breath and a heavy sigh later, the blonde continued in a softer tone, hesitantly reaching out to touch the woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just… I didn't know about my birth mother until after Mom died. _That_ was when it felt like I'd lost her all over again- finding out that she took me in after I was abandoned… I had so many questions that I could never ask her." Slowly, tension bled from her wife's form, the mask falling away as a hundred questions flashed across blue eyes. They remained locked away though and she felt horrible for her outburst, cringing as she continued to probably make matters worse. "Did you ever hear about a large battle during the initial invasion? Almost three years ago, along the eastern shore- it was the largest group of Atlesian warships I'd ever seen."

Recognition sparked in the woman's eyes as she nodded. "We called it the _Blitzkrieg_. Our attempt to overpower Vale's forces by invading with a purely offensive strategy."

Their only attempt. It went unsaid but Yang had seen and heard enough reports to realize the profound impact that single battle had on the course of the war.

"Dad was hurt during the fighting and we thought his chi wouldn't be enough to save him. So he told me the truth just in case and…" Her temper flared again as she grit her teeth, fighting to keep her voice level and steady. "I got so _angry_. Up to that point, I thought I at least had a piece of Mom still with me, as part of me, the same blood running through our veins, but to find out we weren't even related? It was like losing her again, and worse than before. On top of that, I thought I might lose my dad, Ruby and I had gotten separated during the fighting- it was like everything got ripped away from me all over again." She pulled her hand away, raising both in front of her and clenching them into tight fists. "But I was stronger that time. I wasn't going to just _let_ it happen, not without fighting tooth and nail to stop it."

The whole battle existed as a red tinged haze in her memory. No pain, no exhaustion, no sensation at all- just a fury that pushed her to keep moving, keep punching, keep shattering breastplates and shields, rip apart wood and metal alike with her bare hands, all while she was ensconced in the red hot flame of her chi. When she finally regained her senses, the Atlesian fleet lay shattered in the bay, charred wood surrounding holes as the ships sunk and motionless bodies were scattered across the beach among twisted metal. Junior limped along beside her, nursing a stitch in his side from trying to keep up, and every other Valen fell to their knees when she approached, whispering about the Maiden's blessings. That was the first time the clan leaders called her their Queen- the Dragon of Patch.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the way Weiss watched her, as if coming to terms with something she'd known all along. Yang wasn't a fool; she'd heard the Atlesian soldiers' interpretation of the battle- those who'd survived, anyway. Somewhere in the back of her mind, her wife had to have some deep rooted opinion of the blonde, formed during a time when the warrior's name sparked terror among even the most battle hardened of Atlas' troops. She stiffened immediately when her wife moved, worried that fear, disgust, or contempt might force the woman to take a step back, but instead the Atlesian approached her, though she didn't reach out to make contact.

"Yang." The smaller woman waited until lilac eyes met her own gaze before continuing. "You did what you had to, to protect your family and your country. It was war, and one you didn't start."

"I know," she replied, shrugging. "I offer prayers when I can, so their spirits might find peace, and we sent the survivors back to Atlas once they were strong enough to sail, but I don't feel wrong for fighting as hard as I did." Glancing down, she thought of the scars currently hidden by her clothes and shivered, more from having forgotten her cloak than the brief flash of memory that entered her mind- being soaked in blood, but only some of it hers. Whatever she did while lost to the all consuming might of her fury had kept her chi from blocking the attacks aimed at her, allowing axes and swords and at least one spear to pierce her skin, though no single cut sank deep enough to pose any danger. It still took her weeks to heal, though, and Ruby spearheaded the Valen defense in her stead; she recovered quicker from her injuries than the shock of being unanimously declared ruler over the whole country. Redirecting her attention to the Atlesian, she furrowed her brows and spread her hands. "If peace was an option at the time, I would've taken it. We all would have- we'd lost enough during the clan war. I didn't want to lose anyone else."

A few moments of silence passed between them, the blonde unsure as to what thoughts hid behind those blue eyes. She thought perhaps resentment might rise, or maybe fear like the brief flash she'd seen in the clearing as a response to Yang's demonstration, but instead she saw a solemn sort of understanding eventually overtake the woman's countenance. "You did the best you could, given the circumstances."

Yang frowned, unwilling to believe that was the end of it. "Aren't you mad?"

"Should I be?" The Atlesian raised a brow. "There was a time when I was very angry, yes. That battle stood as the single greatest loss in Atlas' history- in Mantle's as well. It demoralized our soldiers, and within our kingdom's borders, it eroded the trust our people had in my father's ability to rule. His temper became shorter, his strategies more desperate, his judgement less sound- it would only be a matter of time before the continued losses from the war and the hardships placed upon the commoners resulted in a coup." Weiss shook her head, scowling at the ground for a moment. "He was a fool. He could've had peace any time he desired, but that's never what he wanted. He wanted power, and when it looked like he couldn't have more, he wanted to retain what he had. So he offered me up- a sacrifice to protect himself, that he might continue to live in luxury while I came here, presumably to be treated as little more than a slave. A war trophy, to bend to your every whim." Her expression turned even more sour. "It's certainly how things would've gone, were they the other way around."

"That's not true." She frowned, taking a step forward and setting a hand on the woman's shoulder to pull her away from the dark turn her thoughts had taken. "You might've tried at the start to please your father, ordered me around a little, but I don't think you'd do it for yourself." The blonde's lips quirked into a smile. "You have a kind heart; it wouldn't be long until you fought tooth and nail for everyone to treat me with just as much respect as anyone else."

"You have more faith in the quality of my character than I do," Weiss replied, running a hand through her bangs.

"Well, yeah; I can see more of you than you can." She waited until her wife looked up at her, blue eyes searching for the sense in her statement. "Unless you carry a mirror around with you, I guess. Although, you'd need two to see behind you _really_ well-"

"You oaf." The Atlesian shook her head in dismay, trying to hide the small smile at Yang's ridiculous joke, which prompted a chuckle from her.

"But seriously- we look at ourselves differently from how others see us." Carefully, she slid her hand across tense shoulders, wrapping an arm around the smaller woman and pulling her closer. Her smile spread wider when her wife neither tensed up nor pulled away, instead seeming to lean into the contact. She wasn't sure who was more comforted by that. "Things would've been different had I gone to Atlas. I'm not sure how I would've survived the winters there; I heard that the snow can come up to your waist!" Craning her neck, she brushed a soft kiss against white locks. "But I'd like to think I've gotten to know you pretty well in the past few months, Snowfall. You would bend to your kingdom's rules, but only for so long. You care so much about being good to people. That's why you stayed, isn't it? To give me a chance?"

Weiss hummed, offering only a single word in response. "Perhaps."

The blonde couldn't tell if that was meant to be an acquiescence to her point or an answer to her question. In the end, it didn't matter; trading what-ifs would do neither of them any good. She spent far too much time doing that, anyway.

They remained silent for a while, not even the wind intruding on the moment. Slowly, as if expecting a reprimand or perhaps out of hesitation, the Atlesian moved her arm, settling her hand on Yang's hip, and the two of them stared out at the scenery together. She could remember the last time she'd looked at the island beyond the shrine from this vantage point and so much had changed, yet, stayed the same over the intervening years.

"Your mother died during the clan war."

"Yes," she replied, clearing her throat to keep her voice steady. Already, she could feel the guilt and sorrow rushing back, but she tramped down on it as best she could while raising her other arm and pointing. "You see the shoreline from here, yeah? Between those trees?"

"I can."

"We'd stayed out of the war at first. Yuanjia said there was nothing to be gained from infighting, and he was right- we were happy and safe on the island. Until we weren't." She took a deep breath. "Mom had brought us up here for a picnic when Ruby saw them. Four boats, filled with warriors, and Mom just _knew_. She looked at us and said 'be strong, be swift. Find your father, warn the villagers, and stay safe. I love you both; now go. And don't look back.'" Tears pricked at her eyes. "Then she ran towards the shore, staff in hand. Ruby and I… we did our best. We ran back as fast as we could- I climbed the tower and beat the drum myself. Ruby found Dad as he was coming back from the market, told him what she saw and where to go. Half the village ran out with him." She couldn't hold them back any longer, squeezing her eyes shut as the tears rolled down her cheeks. "They got there too late. Mom- she stopped them, every single one of them. But… she…"

In her mind's eye, she could see it still: everyone coming back with their heads bent, her dad screaming at the sky and crying while carrying a motionless figure in his arms, wrapped up in a blood stained white cloak. Ruby didn't understand back then and she barely did: Mom was gone, back to the Maidens- no more bedtime stories, no more cookies in the afternoon, no more playing hide-and-seek in the forest. She'd clung to her little sister then, tried to keep her back even as she'd squirmed, reaching out for their parents. The blonde had held tighter, though, because it looked like their dad would fall to the ground at any minute, like the moment he laid Mom down, he would lie down beside her and never get up.

Her hiccuping sobs were only interrupted when Weiss pivoted, wrapping her other arm around the blonde's waist and holding her as she cried. This was the only place she could allow herself to break down; something in Dad had snapped that day, and it took weeks to mend, but someone had to look after Ruby in the meantime. So, she'd stayed strong, just like Mom told her. She let her anger keep the sadness and guilt in check, wearing a mask far too severe for a child her age, and she did her best to be there for her sister. Then things just… got away from them, and she had to trade her anger for patience as she became the person everyone looked to for guidance.

"I wish I'd been stronger back then." The whisper left her lips between sobs, just as it did hundreds of times before as she stood before the shrine. "I could've gone with her, if I'd taken down _just one_ -"

"She was your mother, Yang." A slim hand cupped her cheek, redirecting her gaze just enough so she could see her wife's face. "No matter what, she would've given her life to protect you. She loved you."

She sniffled, leaning into the comforting touch even as she fought down yet another sob. "But I miss her."

"Of course you do." Weiss gave her a smile. "You're a good daughter."

Her eyes shut tight as she shook, unable to contain herself any longer and nearly collapsing as everything coalesced. Her knees buckled suddenly, her weight briefly falling against her wife, but the woman held steadfast with one arm around her waist and the other over her shoulder, their height difference reduced as the blonde struggled to regain her feet. Tears poured down Yang's face as she clung to the smaller frame supporting her, the cold biting at her cheeks a distant thought she paid no mind. The inferno that burned whenever she came up to the shrine- her guilt, her anger, her loss, her mistakes- quietly slid away with every hiccuping breath, every drop that splattered onto white locks as the Atlesian's chi reached into her, calming the flame. It wasn't like being doused by reality, forced to shove all her burning anger back into a box until next she needed it so she could focus on whatever demanded her attention, placing her own emotions further down the list of priorities to help another, no; this felt more like the small hands rubbing soothing circles into her back and hip, the cool forehead pressed against her neck. A gentle coaxing towards calm with wordless reassurance that eased her pain.

Once the initial deluge passed and she could support her own weight, something unexpected engulfed her: relief, a cleansing sort of peace she hadn't felt in far too long. She kept her knees bent, not wanting to break the embrace yet even as Weiss' words replayed in her mind while her sobs began to slow. Despite being softly spoken, there was a confidence bolstering them, and that resonated with something deep within the blonde. She couldn't quite forgive herself- not yet, not after years of replaying those memories and thinking of all the different ways things could've gone, each triggered by an action she could've taken- but her wife didn't seem keen on holding her accountable for those mistakes, those errors of fate that had brought them to this point. That… well, it was something, and she appreciated it.

After a few more minutes, Yang composed herself, using the orange cloth to wipe her face as she caught her breath, chest stuttering as the crying subsided completely. She felt lighter than she had in years, but weary as well- the sort of soreness one got from carrying a heavy load that couldn't be felt until the burden was set aside. A watery smile came to her lips when she looked at the Atlesian, who was patiently waiting for her to come back to her senses with those blue eyes shining like freshly polished gemstones.

"Thank you." She couldn't be sure what she was more grateful for- the support, the calm, the peace, the kindness- and the words didn't seem to hold nearly enough to convey all of that, but other means escaped her at present. Weiss opened her mouth, probably to wave off her gratitude, but seemed to think better of it at the last moment and merely nodded. Lilac eyes lifted, seeing the dense storm clouds in the distance; though the wind had died down, the sea would send them to the island soon enough, and they would be forced to retreat indoors to avoid the cold rain. "We should head back soon." She cleared her throat, trying to rid it of the thick strain. "But, I was going to talk to her, since we're up here. Would, uh… would you like to join me?"

Weiss raised a brow but nodded, slipping her hand into the blonde's once more. "Please."

The warrior lightly squeezed the digits, a silent thanks, before leading them over to the shrine. They stood in silence before it for a moment before Yang bowed her head in reverence, her wife copying the motion. From her belt, she pulled the bundle she'd hurriedly packed earlier, kneeling down at the shrine's base to begin. First, she placed the oranges in the offering plate, with three on the bottom and the fourth set atop the others, and she wished she'd brought some sugar with her to sprinkle over them but resolved to simply do so next time. Next, she set the bases of the incense sticks in the four little grooves carved into the stone's base and pinched the exposed ends, drawing upon the fire in her chest to ignite them. Usually, smoke rose in the blink of an eye, her chi boiling far too close to the surface whenever she came to visit her mother's shrine and making a flintstone unnecessary, but today it took a few seconds of concentrated effort to call forth the necessary spark. Fleetingly, she recalled the worry that had driven her to leave the warmth of their bed so early in the morning, that the incident with Blake had left scars she couldn't see, wounds she hadn't yet attended, and that the closeness that came so easily to them when in the clearing might reveal what she had left to do before the incident could be well and truly behind them. However, as smoke slowly began to rise from each stick, Yang felt confident that only time could do more than they'd already done to heal the both of them; she doubted they could've shared the morning and afternoon as they had otherwise. Finally, she crushed each of the prayer papers into loose balls before setting them in the shrine's message box, stepping back to rejoin her wife once the preparations were complete.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the jasmine scent now curling in the air, lending a new fragrance to the sharp bite of winter. Although opposites by nature, her mom had always held a healthy respect for the Winter Maiden's season, silver eyes watching the freezing storms through the window as she spoke of ancient legends before tucking them in at night. It seemed only fitting for the weather to cooperate in turn, the wind remaining silent and the far off clouds lingering at a distance.

"Hey, Mom. I know it's been a while; I meant to come out a few days ago, but things got a little hectic. You know how it goes. Never enough hours in the day, right?" She shifted, a little lost now that she didn't immediately feel the need to offer apologies and air her regrets, always a hair's breadth away from begging forgiveness from the silent stone bearing her mom's emblem. After incorporating Jianhuren- the ancient dragon, etched in her signature yellow- to the design of her flaming heart, she'd thought about somehow incorporating a rose, too, but decided to leave that to Ruby. "It looks like it's going to be another hard winter; you always said that the gentler the Summer Maiden treated us, the harsher the Winter Maiden would, to remind us to be diligent. I used to hate it but I think I'm a little grateful this time around. I'm pretty sure my wife is enjoying the colder weather." She glanced at her side, where Weiss stood watching the smoke rise up. What little tension had built in her shoulders at suddenly being at a loss for what to say slid away, smile widening. "Speaking of, I brought her with me today, Mom. After listening to me talk about her, well, now you get to meet her yourself. _This_ is Weiss, of Atlas, the one and only."

The Atlesian quirked a brow up for a moment, seemingly confused, but recovered quickly and bowed at the waist. "It's an honor, Ma'am."

When her wife straightened up, Yang couldn't help but chuckle softly, her smile somehow stretching even wider. "See, Mom? Told you she's something else."

The wind lightly swirled around them, blanketing the two in jasmine smoke as the storm began its inexorable journey to the island.

* * *

Author's Note: First, Yuanjia is based on the folk hero of the same name, depicted by Jet Li in the movie _Fearless_. Although the events of the movie are somewhat fictitious (one of Yuanjia's rivals, for instance, actually helped the real Yuanjia set up the Wushu school), his story of standing against the Western powers is celebrated, so it seemed fitting to include him here. Next, by this point, I'm sure you're probably wondering why I started this with the 'M' rating when I haven't crossed into 'M' territory yet, eight chapters in. It's mainly because I don't agree with having a fic rated with the current content when the author knows it will change ratings later down the line, so consider this the baseline. Later in the story, scenes will be more graphic and the 'M' rating will be entirely justified, but the style of focusing more on emotions than physical actions will be consistent. You'll likely see the scenes coming but there probably won't be chapter-by-chapter warnings.


	9. Concerns

**Disclaimer:** Thanks to everyone who's been patient! It's greatly appreciated! I finally got a day off this month, so I can try to get back on track. Be advised, though, that there's likely to be more hiccups in the immediate future due to real world shenanigans and the general suckage that is my life currently. I personally would like to go back in time and kick my own ass for thinking that things got easier as you get older; they sure as shit don't, lemme tell ya. This chapter is also a touch longer than usual. Not by much, though.

* * *

Yang talked for a long time, carrying on the one-sided conversation with her mother's grave marker for at least an hour as the skies darkened overhead. The topics ranged from how Ghira and Kali were doing to touching a little on her slight falling out with Blake before moving right into the latest news around Patch, and even the last bit of news from Ruby, the blonde's enigmatic sister who was off gallivanting around the kingdom on some quest or other. Weiss remained silent beside her, caught between swirling emotions that she did her best to hide. The blonde seemed happy despite the undercurrent of wistful longing that lingered in her tone and it would be a shame to ruin her improved mood so soon. Doing it once had already made her heart clench painfully in her chest, hardly able to process the absolutely heartbroken expression on her wife's face as she fought to keep her tears in check; honest the Atlesian would be per their agreement to do better, but there had to be a more appropriate time and place to pursue those questions lingering in the back of her mind. Especially when most of them could be answered by someone else, the sharp point of her anger reminded her, almost threatening to break through her calm expression. The less the other woman knew of her current thoughts, the better for both of them.

Eventually, the boom of thunder drew Yang's attention to the encroaching storm, and she frowned briefly before looking back to the grave marker.

"We should probably head back. Wouldn't want to be caught outside when it starts coming down. It might pass us over and hit the mainland but… well, better not chance it, right?" She reached out with one hand, putting it inside the little box and gathering the balled up papers into a loose fist. Brows pinching in concentration, the blonde remained silent until faint smoke began to rise from within, drawing her hand back to reveal the small tongues of flame licking at the papers bearing various Valen characters. Weiss could only read a handful from her brief looks at them, but each had a positive message about peace and rest, so she could only assume them to be prayers meant to set her mother's soul at ease. "I love you, Mom. I hope you're resting well under the Maidens' care." Yang glanced her way. "And if you could put in a good word for us? The harvest is coming up. After that, if the Winter Maiden could give us a little snow this year, I think we'd like that."

She couldn't help the smile that came to her lips, shaking her head slightly as her anger retreated to the back of her mind. "You'd absolutely hate it."

"I don't _hate_ the cold; I just prefer warmer weather." The blonde bumped their shoulders together. "But, you'd like it, right?"

"Yes, I would." She thought back to the milder days during fall and spring, when the snow would fall in soft flurries and melt away in a few days, the temperature not so low as to make her shiver uncontrollably yet still biting whenever the wind blew. If she gauged the Valen climate correctly, their winters would be about as gentle, though they didn't see it as such. "Maybe a day or two of snow. I could teach you how to make a _schneeengel_."

Yang furrowed her brows briefly, rolling the Atlesian word around her tongue for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't know what that is."

"That's okay. I'll show you," she replied, glancing at the clouds. "I think you'll like it."

"Good enough for me." The warrior chuckled, turning her attention back to the grave marker. "I'll try to bring some chocolate next time, Mom. And keep an eye on Ruby; you know how she is. And if you can get it into her head that she needs to come home for a bit, I'm sure Dad would like that. We miss her, and you. I'll come back soon, Mom. Love you." Weiss bowed her head in tandem with Yang as the two took a step back, the wind whipping at them a bit harder than before. "I'm sorry, Weiss; I didn't mean to keep you out here this long."

"I'm more concerned about you, Yang." Blue eyes traced the shivers running through the other woman's frame. Although it _had_ gotten colder as they stood there in the little clearing on the cliff, the Atlesian wasn't to the point of being uncomfortable yet. "We need to get your cloak."

"Yeah." She rubbed at her arms, trying to shake off the tremors to no avail. "Come on, let's head back."

Yang led the way back down through the forest, walking between the little bushes and onto the deer path that followed. Idly, she reached into her sleeve, where she'd tucked the stem of the one her wife had given her earlier, and pulled it out to inspect the white petals. It looked slightly different, true, but Weiss would be willing to swear that the flower she held bore more than a passing resemblance to the roses brought to Atlas- flowers often associated with beauty, nobility, and truth. How ironic, she thought, that they would be found growing wild just a stone's throw from her wife's house when Atlesian nobles would pay sacks of gold for but a few. The wind picked up as they neared the clearing, the dreary day turning even more so as the thick clouds reached the island and the dead trees swayed ominously under their weight.

But when they finally emerged into the clearing, Weiss straightened her posture, just barely keeping her expression neutral. Rather than return to an empty space bearing only the vestiges of their meal and Yang's cloak, the two found three men and a woman waiting for them, each with enough variation in their styles of dress for the Atlesian to work out that they likely had come separately.

One stood leaning against a tree, wearing a heavy fur lined cloak wrapped tightly around his burly frame, a long reddish brown beard reaching nearly to the middle of his massive chest. His eyes were the same dark grey as the clouds swirling above, the string of a bow longer than the Atlesian was tall cutting across his chest. Beside him sat the woman, wrapped in a shawl made of hay to keep her warm, muddy brown eyes peeking out from beneath a red and yellow hood fashioned like a boar's head. A great ax sat in her lap, the double edged blade showing nicks and portions of the handle worn smooth from use, and Weiss could just barely make out the makeshift sling immobilizing her right arm. A few feet away stood another man wearing a wide brimmed straw hat pulled low over his eyes and a scarf wrapped around his neck, a brown robe lined with blue looping designs flowing down to the tops of his shoes, the staff he carried in one hand firmly planted in the ground while the other end stood proud above him, fashioned into a red orange leaf with little golden circles looped through holes along each point. The last man sat further apart from the others, shivering despite the heavy orange cloak enveloping him, a rosy tint to his cheeks as his breath fogged up before him.

Upon the duo's entrance, the strangers got up or straightened their postures, bowing low before the one in the robe spoke in a formal way atypical of the Valen people who commonly interacted with the blonde. "We come bearing news on behalf of our clans and the Fall Maiden, Dragon of Patch. Please, grant us audience."

Lilac eyes scanned across each of the strangers before seeking out her gaze, switching back to Atlesian. "I'm sorry, Weiss; I need to talk to them." She gave a little shrug. "Duty calls."

"I understand," she replied, favoring her wife with a sincere smile. "Would you like to bring them to the house?"

"No, we'll go to the tavern." Yang leaned over, brushing a soft kiss against her temple. "You head home; I'm sure Dad's started on dinner by now. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Try to not get caught in the storm." With a nod of her head in acknowledgement towards the newcomers- which all four of the strangers returned by bowing at the shoulders- Weiss made her way back towards the Xiao Long abode, allowing her pleasant expression to slide away now that she'd left the blonde's presence. Her brows pinched together, lips curling into a severe frown as she quickened her pace. No doubt the warrior would attend to the messengers quickly, gathering what information she needed before retreating to the study tucked into the back corner of the house, which meant she had a very limited amount of time to confront Taiyang alone.

The sharp, biting anger from before returned in full force, curling her hands into fists. Regardless if she couldn't do near as much damage as her wife could when throwing a punch, some part of her felt like it kept her frustrations focused on the few points that had slipped beneath her armor, quietly festering while they stood atop the hill. Normally, she would shove her feelings into a box, locked and hidden in the deepest corner of her mind, never to see the light of day. But both her wife and her father-in-law continued to encourage her to speak her mind, and this particular issue demanded to be addressed sooner rather than later.

In hindsight, she cursed herself for being so naive as to believe bringing up Summer _wouldn't_ be emotionally draining on the blonde. She'd seen for herself the drastic change it had wrought on Taiyang- why did she think Yang would react any better? Time and time again, the warrior had shown that beneath hard earned muscle and gleaming metal lay a kind, empathetic soul who would stop at nothing to protect those she held dear. Had she lost all her sense when she fell ill? How could she be so thoughtless?

More to the point, how could Taiyang suggest for her to do something so callous? He _had_ to have some idea of the profound impact the loss of her mother had on Yang, some clue as to the depth of her pain. And he'd put the fool idea into Weiss' head to come crashing into such a sensitive topic with all the grace of a drunken bull. Although there was some little voice trying valiantly to tell her that he likely hadn't intended anything malicious with the suggestion, she could hardly forgive so easily the secrecy with which he treated the topic. Just a little background information, a warning- _something_ that would've indicated to her that she was about to drag Yang through her most painful memories would've been _greatly_ appreciated, and she refused to let go of her displeasure until she had a concrete explanation from the man for his deception.

She reached the Xiao Long house just as the clouds reached the other side of the island, the wind blowing harshly across the tops of the trees. The moment she opened the door, a wave of heat hit her full force from the roaring fire, and she quickly entered to keep the chill from sneaking inside.

"Yang? Weiss?" Taiyang's voice came from the kitchen, followed by the dull thunks of a knife on the cutting board.

"Just me," she replied, fighting to keep her voice level as she walked to the entryway, watching her father-in-law's back for a moment. "Messengers came for Yang. She's taking them to the tavern to discuss matters."

"I'm not surprised; better to allow the weary ones easy access to their bunks than have them walk back to the village from here." He straightened up from where he'd bent over the counter, cutting up vegetables for the evening meal. He peered through the window, looking up at the sky. "I do hope it's quick, though. The storm looks like it'll be a bad one; I'd hate for her to be caught in it."

Weiss remained silent, weighing how she wanted to approach the conversation. Allowing her anger to guide her, while the easiest option, would also produce the least satisfying results. She wanted to get to the heart of the issue, as much from a strange sense of hurt on Yang's behalf as to better her own understanding of the man in front of her, so she had to tread carefully.

Eventually, Taiyang must've sensed something was wrong, setting aside the knife and turning to look at her. She could see in his eyes that he was searching and, when his eyes fell on the little white flower still clasped in her hand, solemn understanding filled his expression. "She showed you."

"Yes." She pressed her lips into a tight line. "Why did she have to tell me?"

"You deserved-"

"No." Weiss narrowed her eyes, drawing herself up as tall as she could stand and staring him down, despite the man having a good foot on her in height. "Why did _she_ have to tell me? You knew the whole story; you could've easily spared her the pain."

The blond sighed, seemingly expecting her reaction. "It's better this way."

"How?" She refused to allow him an easy way out; it didn't matter how much she'd have to press the issue. "Summer was _your_ wife."

"And _you_ are Yang's." He snapped back, though it didn't seem to be anger fueling his reaction. His expression was stern and severe but it broke into a softer one a moment later as he sighed. "Tell me- had you heard the story from me, when would you have broached the issue with Yang? Or when, do you think, would she have brought it up? Months? Years? Ever?" Taiyang leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's in pain. I know that, but I don't know what to do- I can't even heal myself." His expression fell a little, scratching at the shadow across his jaw. "I want her to be happy and, strange as it may seem given the circumstances, _you_ are the most capable person of bringing her that happiness. If anyone can help her heal, it's you."

Despite the plea for sympathy in his tone, Weiss felt her heart harden against it. She completely ignored the compliment, not wanting the vote of confidence to detract her from the real issue at hand, and that reflected in her voice.

"You don't know what to do? Perhaps I can give you a hint." She tried to keep the vitriol to a minimum as she spoke, never once allowing him to look away from her. "In the eyes of a child, a parent is their whole world and they assume the same of their parent. They have no scope of the world beyond what they can see, no understanding of how many people and influences affect the adults in their lives. In the eyes of a child, a parent's woes… it must be something _they_ did." Her voice remained even and steady, despite the memories threatening to snatch her focus away. "They have no concept of how many factors can work to make a single day difficult for the adults in their lives- if their mother seems apathetic about an accomplishment, it must be because they didn't do good enough. If their father seems unhappy with an outcome, it must be because they did it wrong. It doesn't matter what the real reason is; they believe themselves to be the cause. If something bad happened, it must be their fault." Her gaze sharpened, piercing through the man standing across the room and pinning him to the spot. "So how do you think your daughter felt, bearing witness to your pain first hand? Being one of the last people to talk to your wife- _her_ mother- did you ever consider the amount of responsibility that is for a child to feel on top of her own sorrow? Did you ever think to tell her it wasn't her fault?"

Yang never said the words, but she could read between the lines and see with her own two eyes how heavily the burden of guilt sat across broad shoulders and weighed on her heart, how long it had torn at her without so much as a word escaping her lips. She tried so hard to keep her head up, to be strong for her family and her kingdom, but the strain showed plainly while they stood before the grave marker, when the warrior collapsed into her arms. How many years had the blonde suffered in silence, begging forgiveness from the wind?

"She- she knows that," he replied quickly, but his voice faltered just like his expression. Panic, fear, hurt- it reflected plainly in his face that the concept had honestly never occurred to him, so burdened by his own grief. On some level, she felt sympathy for the man, because he truly looked genuinely lost in that moment. But the rest of her couldn't get the vision of Yang- her strong, confident, caring wife with the world on her shoulders- shaking and crying and looking for all the world like a grieving child from her mind's eye and the sinking sensation that this could've been avoided entirely had the conversation occurred years ago. "My daughters were just children; there was nothing they could've done. They know that- _Yang_ knows that." She held his gaze, her sharp look unwavering even as his shoulders sagged. "…doesn't she?"

"It doesn't matter if she knows it or not." Weiss refused to back down, instead taking two steps into the kitchen and continuing to stare the man down. " _Did you ever say it?_ " She threw her arms wide, as much to vent a little of the restless rage coiling in the pit of her stomach as to accentuate her point. "When was the last time you told her that you know she's doing the best she can? That she's doing a good job? That you're proud of everything she's accomplished, how far she's come- she was thrown into a position of power many people would kill for, and she's bearing that weight with more dignity than some. If she claims any pride at all, it's in her people, not herself or her position. Have you any idea how rare that is? How humble?" The Atlesian jabbed a finger at him. "And she comes to _you_ for guidance. Not because you have any better idea than she does, not because you've been in the same situation before, but simply because you're her _father_. She looks up to you." She pulled back, though her expression remained severe. "Your opinion matters to her and it always will. Sharing it from time to time won't kill you. It might hurt, but it _won't_ kill you."

Taiyang hung his head in shame, only the crackling of the fire filling the void for a while. A flash of lighting through the window outside preceded another clap of thunder as the first taps of rain splashed against the window, but the Atlesian remained focused on watching his posture, hoping she'd gotten through.

Eventually, he moved, shaking himself. "I… I thought she knew. I really did. I thought she had to know that I would never blame her or Ruby- my girls were so brave, they did everything they could." He looked up at her then, eyes clouded over by memories and pain. "When we defeated the Xiong clan, I told her we had to put that anger behind us. The need to place blame- it's a toxic thing and Ruby helped us see that. I never thought she'd internalize it, I-" Blue eyes closed, his expression pinching into one of barely suppressed frustration, and for a moment she thought he might lash out at her. After a moment, a tear slipped out from one eye, and she recognized that he was doing everything in his power to keep it in check. Just like his daughter. When he spoke, his voice warbled slightly. "You're right. I never _said_ it- I should've told them that I could _never_ blame them for what happened. I just… stopped talking about Summer, like I stopped talking about…"

"About Raven?" She supplied, noticing his flinch; even after all these years, he didn't seem one step closer to actually moving on from that first heartbreak.

His eyes squeezed shut tighter, blunt fingernails digging into his biceps as he forced out through gritted teeth. "It was just… easier."

Weiss allowed her expression and tone to soften slightly, though not by choice. In hindsight, she should've expected that the man's sorrow would bear a striking resemblance to his daughter's, and she suddenly felt like she was watching Yang break down all over again. A cold stab of dread struck her in that moment, her imagination replacing the man's countenance with his daughter's and it made her heart hurt just thinking about the agony she'd quite nearly inflicted upon the woman. "It's not often that the easy way and the right way share the same path."

The blond nodded, scrubbing at his eyes but remaining silent.

"I will admit you were right, though. In a sense." The Atlesian waited until he looked at her before continuing. "Had you told me just the smallest bit of what memories I'd be bringing to the surface, I would've hesitated far more than I did. I would've been more tactful, yes, and I wouldn't have asked so soon." A small sigh escaped her lips. "But perhaps… I might not have asked at all." Her gaze became sharp once more as she pushed her shoulders back, any sympathy she might have pushed aside for the moment. "But even if I understand your reasons, I can't agree with your methods. Some things shouldn't be hidden away, only to be confronted in the most painful way possible. Especially when you yourself have avoided the very same for far too long."

Taiyang looked at her then, a bit of the sternness returning to his features as he shoved his pain aside for the moment. She opted to ignore that he was doing exactly what she'd just chided him for and instead listened when he spoke, a slight hitch in his voice as he struggled to regain his composure. "I admit I made a mistake, an err in judgement, but… did _any_ good come of her showing you? Telling you the story?" He spread his hands, once again pleading. "I thought it would be best if you both worked through this together, I… I know that recovering from unseen wounds… it binds people together, in a way."

Part of her wanted to point out the poor timing- they've been married for nigh three months and _now_ the man felt the need to meddle in their relationship, really- but a bigger part of her could at least see the benefits of his actions, albeit begrudgingly. "It… did accomplish something akin to that. I saw sides of Yang I had only glimpsed before," she said, thinking back to the red hot fury that emanated from the woman, the pain and anguish in her voice. Mostly, she remembered the tears, the vulnerability- to show such in Atlas would be disgraceful, but she couldn't imagine holding the display against Yang. It… felt right, being the one to comfort the blonde, to offer some of the support she'd been given without hesitation all this time. "I understand her better than before. Sharing that… brought us much closer together." Her expression sharpened again. "However, I'm quite certain there are better ways of accomplishing that than what you put us through. Good intentions don't excuse poor decisions. That's…" She sighed, looking down at the ground between them. It suddenly struck her as rather ironic that she was there, giving Taiyang essentially the same lecture he'd given _her_ just a few days ago. "That's something I know all too well."

He took a step towards her and she instinctively looked up, ready for a reprimand about talking back or questioning him, but instead the blond merely gave her a small, contrite smile. "I'll talk to her when she returns. It's a conversation long overdue." He set a hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "And I'm glad you two talked about it."

Weiss nodded, at a loss now that she'd aired her grievances with the man. Aside from confronting him before Yang returned, she hadn't exactly thought out the rest of the night. However, one thing did come to mind, something of a test to see if he would hold true to his word. "Summer sounds like a lovely woman. I wish I could've met her."

Taiyang's brows raised in surprise before he let out a chuckle, eyes misting over for a moment as he stared off into space. "She was something else. You know… if she were still alive, I think she would've overseen your wedding herself. Insisted on it, even." He looked at her then with a watery smile. "She would've taken one look at you and seen the same thing she saw in Yang all those years ago."

She tilted her head, her curiosity getting the better of her. The fact he replied without deflecting gave her confidence he would talk to the blonde once she returned, but perhaps pushing a bit further would do them all some good, a step towards making their difficult past a topic that sparked memories of the good times they had together rather than the disastrous way they were torn apart. "What _did_ she see?"

Her father-in-law squeezed her shoulder gently, looking her in the eyes as his smile widened. "A daughter with a pure heart, who deserved all the love in the world."

"She told you that?" He nodded, and the Atlesian found herself hoping that he'd told Yang as much at some point, or would do so soon. Not only did she absolutely deserve to hear the words, Weiss thought her wife _needed_ to, especially considering the circumstances. Regardless, she returned his smile. "I'm flattered you think she would've thought the same of me."

"I don't _think_ , I _know_ ; I can see it, too." Taiyang pulled her in, enveloping her in a hug as she processed his words. A high compliment to be sure, and fleetingly she wondered if her own parents ever thought such of her, or if they thought of her at all now that she'd left Atlas. Such thoughts were pushed from her head, however, as she returned the embrace for a few moments before the blond released her. When he stepped back, he nodded towards the counter. "Would you like to help me with dinner?"

She smiled. "Of course."

* * *

Worried blue eyes were fixed on the nearest window, the rain hitting the pane in thick drops while the wind whipped angrily at the trees, while the two occupants of the house sat by the hearth, the game board between them. The brunt of the storm finally rolled in when they sat down at the table, bowls filled with thick noodles, spiced and accompanied by vegetables, chicken, and a tangy sauce, but had gotten markedly worse in the last hour they'd spent playing against one another. It seemed unspoken that they'd stay awake until the blonde returned home from her meeting with the messengers but, as lightning illuminated the sky once more and thunder crashed immediately after, that seemed like something neither hoped would happen.

"Yang will probably spend the night at the tavern, right?" She looked to her father-in-law, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of green tea as he surveyed the board.

With a slow shake of his head, Taiyang glanced towards the window himself. "Normally, I would say yes, but tonight, she'll try to come home, I'm sure of it." He met her gaze, the same apprehension gripping him as surely as it did her. "If it was just me here, she'd stay, but I don't think she'd want you to worry about where she is, or if she's okay. She told you she'd come home, so she will."

The Atlesian frowned, returning her attention to the window. No doubt the temperature had dropped since the sun went down an hour ago; though the rain hadn't started to freeze yet, as it would in her former homeland, she had to acknowledge that the Valens didn't see the cold the way she did. Imagining Yang, soaked to the bone and shivering, trudging to the house, set a crease in her brow that refused to abate. "I'd rather her stay by a fire. She could catch a cold walking out through a storm like that."

The wind howled and battered the house as she returned her gaze to the game board. Taiyang set down one of his stones in the corner closest to his left, attempting to draw the woman's attention away from the awaiting conflict on the opposite side of the board. The tactic itself failed but another crash and flash effectively snatched her thoughts, mechanically advancing her stake over the largest island while her main focus was elsewhere. The moment she'd made her move- and trusting the man to play fair- the Atlesian excused herself and quickly went upstairs, gathering up a set of pajamas- the thicker, cotton sort, rather than silk- a towel, and a blanket, Weiss returned downstairs and strung up a line in front of the fireplace and draped each article over it. If her wife foolishly made the trek from the tavern to the house in the middle of the storm, at least she'd have dry, warm clothes to change into, though she hoped someone talked sense into the woman before she tried leaving.

As she reclaimed her seat, she noted the odd expression on her father-in-law's face. "What?"

"You asked me something earlier. I want to ask the same of you." He pointed at the newest addition to the game board.

"Go ahead," she replied, picking up her strategy where she left off and placing her own piece.

"Has Yang told you that you're a good wife?" His eyes darted to the side, watching the flickering flames whenever they peeked around the strung up clothes, shadows both real and imagined playing across his face. "It's… something I should've told Summer more often. She was a good wife, a good mother- she was good at anything she tried, really." Taiyang's gaze flicked back to her briefly. "I've… obviously been very poor about telling people what I think, how I feel- the important stuff… of all the things she's learned from me, I hope that keeping her thoughts to herself isn't one of them."

Weiss made a thoughtful noise, using the placing of her next piece as a suitable distraction while her mind assembled a satisfactory reply. Then, she threw that out, recognizing it as a mere deflection, and spoke plainly. "Actually, Yang's quite well versed in making her feelings known. What she doesn't say, she conveys through other means. I… must admit, I'm still a little surprised by it all."

Taiyang smiled and nodded. "That's my girl."

The din of the storm swelled to a near deafening roar as thunder crashed again, blinding lightning illuminating the sky, and Weiss found herself hoping her wife hadn't taken the stubborn route and tried walking home in that. Yet, even as she thought it, she resolved to put the kettle on the fire during the blond's next turn, just in case, and perhaps warm up some dinner, too. Of the things she could count on when it came to Yang, doing her utmost best to keep her word proved to be one of them.

If she said she would be home that night, she mostly likely would be, come Hell and high water.

* * *

Weiss could feel her eyelids growing heavy as they reached the end stages of the game, balancing precariously on the edge with each able to claim victory, if only by the slimmest margin. The trek out to the grave marker had taken its toll almost as much as dancing around the clearing, not to mention airing her frustrations with Taiyang being taxing, if in a different way. The storm had calmed some, though not much, and it was late enough that she could be reasonably confident that, if Yang didn't return very soon, she'd done the wise thing and remained at the tavern.

She was a hair's breadth away from suggesting they call the game a draw and turn in for the night when she heard something slam against the front door, a dead weight hitting the solid wood like a judge's gavel. In an instant, she was on her feet and heading towards the door, her hand coming up to Myrtenaster's hilt as an afterthought. While the Atlesian doubted any robber or scoundrel would pick such ill weather to commit a crime, she would prefer an intruder to the sight that met her when she entered the foyer.

Her cloak was soaked all the way through, water cascading off it as the warrior shouldered her way through the door and fell back against it to push it closed. Between the sniffling and the shivering, there remained little doubt as to the woman's condition and Weiss couldn't help the words flying from her tongue.

"Yang, you idiot, why didn't you stay at the tavern?" She rushed forward, pushing back the hood of the cloak to see her wife's face, pale and slick from the cold rain bearing down on the island, not to mention cold to the touch.

"D-d-didn't wa-a-ant you ta w-wo-rrrrrry." Through chattering teeth, the blonde offered her a small, fractured smile. "I-I'll be-"

"Oh, hush, you." Lithe fingers made quick work of the clasp of her cloak, tossing the heavy, waterlogged material away and working on the woman's vest next. She could tell the water had soaked through every layer, and while Yang's inner fire may be enough to stave off serious illness, remaining in the sopping wet clothing for too long couldn't possibly be good for her health. "Taiyang!"

"Right behind you," he replied, startling her slightly. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed the man had gathered up the clothing and towel she'd left by the fire, and she grabbed the latter and slung it over her shoulder while he set the former a little ways away- safe from the rain water puddling around his daughter's boots but still within reach. "I… think you can take things from here, Weiss. Peaceful sleep to both of you."

"N-n-night, Dad."

"Good night, Sir," she said, pulling the vest away and working on the wet leather of Ember Celica, the clasps being undone and the weapons set aside before she moved onto the next layer, keeping her attention focused on her task even as his footsteps receded. It was hard enough with Yang's height, and the blonde was hardly any help with her body shivering so badly and her fingers lacking their usual dexterity.

No matter. Weiss managed to free her of the layer and the one after that, too, before kneeling down and helping the blonde step out of her boots. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to be very stable on her feet, falling back against the door with a heavy thud, but she didn't seem weak enough to need assistance standing. Next came the warrior's pants, and then the last shirt, which finally left the blonde in her under clothes which were also soaked through.

"I can-"

" _You_ can stay still." The Atlesian muttered, pulling the towel from her shoulder and beginning to pass the warm cloth over cool, clammy skin, wiping away the excess water and leeching away the cold that had set deep into the woman's muscles.

Yang grunted and cleared her throat, sniffling a little. "Feels good. Warm."

"Be thankful I expected you to be so foolish." She continued to work the cloth across muscled arms and the sharp planes of her shoulders, pausing to unwrap the fabric holding her considerable chest in place before taking care in wiping down her chest and abdomen. If she heard the little hitches of breath that came with passing over sensitive flesh, she ignored it for… a myriad of reasons, really, but the primary one being that she couldn't afford to get distracted. Once she'd dried the woman off down to her hips, she instructed for the blonde to turn around, focusing on the rigid expanse of her back next. Years of surviving unforgiving Atlesian winters taught her a thing or two about what the human body could resist, that the core of a person could save the limbs but not the other way around, and she quickly retrieved the shirt to slip onto her wife's frame the moment she'd dried off her wife's back. That, at least, would also give her a chance to properly focus her semblance, though she regrettably hadn't thought to grab a second towel for the woman's hair.. "Cross your arms over your chest. It'll help conserve your body heat."

"Sounds like you've… done this before." The warrior's voice carried no particular inflection save for being uncomfortable, and she couldn't quite pinpoint the source of the unease.

So she took a guess. "I've seen the healers bring in those who fell during the cold of winter. In Atlas, these actions mean the difference between life and death."

"I'm-m-m-" Another shiver wracked her frame, one that threatened to steal her legs from under her, but Weiss put both hands on the woman's hips to steady her, the towel over her shoulder once more. "I'm not _tha-at_ bad."

"No, you're not." Weiss puffed out a small sigh, raising her gaze to meet lilac orbs shining with a touch of mirth. "But _I_ don't take chances."

With that, she stripped away the last of Yang's clothing and knelt down, returning to her task of toweling the woman dry- thighs, calves, hips again, her rear, though she was careful not to be too… abrasive with her ministrations. The moment she finished, she retrieved the pajama bottoms and helped the warrior step into them, pulling them up to her waist and tying a loose knot once they settled over her hips. Nearly all the warmth in the towel was gone by this point, but she draped it across the woman's shoulders regardless, beneath her hair to keep the wet strands from soaking through her dry shirt entirely. To her relief, some color had returned to the woman's cheeks, though she couldn't be sure if it was warmth seeping into her muscles or a touch of embarrassment. They hadn't been naked in front of each other since they consummated their marriage, but she dismissed that thought lest it bring a flush to her own cheeks as well. Her actions were born of a desire to aid her wife in not catching a blasted cold; thoughts of that nature were entirely unwarranted and useless to her now.

"Come along. We need to get you to bed." Weiss slipped an arm around her wife's waist, guiding her towards the staircase. "Did you eat?"

"A little," the blonde replied softly, wincing at the faint rumble in her stomach. "We spent most of the time talking."

Mentally, she congratulated herself on anticipating Yang's actions; a warm drink and meal would certainly help, provided the woman didn't try fighting her in the process. Either through luck or sheer force of will, the Atlesian managed to get her wife into bed and under the covers with little fuss, excusing herself to collect a cup of warm water from the kettle and a bowl full of their leftover dinner, trying to get as many chunks of chicken in with the noodles as possible. The meat would help Yang regain her strength and, with chopsticks stuck in the bowl, she returned to the bedroom and set the offerings on the bedside table, taking the moment to survey the other woman's form.

Her shivering had lessened considerably, the faint wisps of blonde hair that escaped the towel glowing faintly as Yang stared at the ceiling with half lidded, dark red eyes, obviously exhausted and fighting to stay awake. The smell of food roused her enough to sit up, accepting the bowl and shoveling a mouthful in before going for the water. She took two gulps before pulling the cup away, a quizzical quirk to her brow.

"Is this… warm water? That's it?"

"What you need right now is water, not wine." Weiss reached out, as if to take the cup back. "If you'd prefer it cool, however-"

The blonde flashed her a smile, taking another sip before responding. "I'm good, thank you. It's delicious by the way."

She rolled her eyes, reluctantly pleased that her wife seemed back to good spirits so soon. What a boon it must be to ignite a fire within one's chest at will; while her people would be hardy enough to withstand such conditions, they would also not be so careless in the first place. "For the record, next time, I'd prefer if you simply stayed at the tavern." The corner of her lips pulled into a frown. "You could've hurt yourself, walking through a storm like that."

Yang swallowed down a mouthful to gesture at her eyes, still that smoldering red. "Weiss, I'm fine; I can fight the cold-"

"I don't mean _just_ the cold." The Atlesian sighed, looking out the window as another flash of lightning lit up the landscape beyond the bedroom window. "Winds like that could bring a tree branch down on top of you, or worse. You could've lost your footing and slipped. There are other things to be concerned about than _just_ the cold."

When she looked back, soft lilac met her gaze, the bowl set in the woman's lap for a moment. "I didn't mean to worry you, Weiss."

"That doesn't mean I won't worry anyway." There was little bite to her words, though her expression pinched into one of annoyance as Yang's lips lifted into a small smile. "Something amusing to you?"

With a shake of her head, her wife returned to eating, slurping up noodles and broth while occasionally pausing to chew, saving the vegetables and meat for last. Rather than press for an answer, Weiss opted to grab the blonde's brush and begin working through the damp, matted mass of blonde hair. At first, the warrior stiffened when she slid onto the bed behind her, but eventually returned to her meal even as the Atlesian began carefully working through the knots. A faint, shimmering glow remained to the strands as a low, rolling heat rose from Yang's body, her shivering dying down the longer they quietly sat together. When the blonde finished eating, she set the bowl aside and drained the rest of her water, remaining as still as possible until Weiss finished brushing out her hair.

"There. Now, get under the covers." She rose to her feet, a quick, piercing look discouraging any argument. "I'll be back shortly." Weiss went downstairs and cleaned up as best she could, setting the soaked clothing by the fire to dry and retrieving the woman's cestus. She wiped down the metal as she returned to the bedroom, placing Ember Celica in their proper place atop the dresser though absent the orange cloth. Her fingers went to the swordbelt on her waist but she paused, a faint grunt from the bed pulling her gaze there. Her wife sat up, the blanket pooling around her waist, and watched the Atlesian's movement with a slight furrow to her brow. "Didn't I tell you to stay under the covers?"

"Yeah," Yang replied, a low mutter that caused the furrow to deepen.

It took a moment longer for her to decipher the look. With a small sigh, she went over to the bed and allowed her wife to undo the belt. "You were really going to pout about this?"

"You got to fuss over me." The blonde pointed out petulantly, pulling Myrtenaster away and folding the belt neatly with it. "It's only fair, right?" Weiss felt her lips pull into a small smile as she shook her head, taking her weapon to lay beside her wife's while the other woman settled back under the covers. With that done, all preparations for sleep were complete and she could slip into bed beside her wife. But she hesitated, going around the bed to sit beside the woman first. Lilac eyes watched her, curious; the blonde was completely dry now, the shivering subsiding completely. "Told ya I'd be fine."

"That you did." Weiss leaned over, taking a moment to steel herself before brushing her lips against the blonde's, drawing away so their eyes could meet. Somehow, she couldn't stop herself from searching, the irrational fear that she'd find anything other than patient support clawing at the back of her mind. It was unfounded, of course, and she couldn't help the soft, relieved sigh that slipped past her lips when her wife's hand gently cupped her cheek.

"Thank you," Yang said, a wide smile spreading across her face.

"You dolt. You could've caught a cold otherwise." The Atlesian tried to will herself to pull away but found herself reluctant to deprive herself of the contact so soon.

"No, I mean." The blonde paused, briefly looking away as she searched for the right words. Her brow furrowed heavily, tongue darting out to swipe over her lips as she gathered herself. "That's the first time you've kissed me since Blake came, after the mock battle. I thought, maybe, there was a reason you were holding back." She blinked in surprise, breath catching in her chest as a lump appeared in her throat. Perhaps it was a foolish thought, but she'd hoped her wife hadn't noticed. Some things were best left untouched, or so she thought. She tried to formulate an answer of some sort- an apology, an excuse, something- but the words didn't leave her tongue quick enough. "There _is_ still something bothering you, isn't there?" Yang sighed, though it didn't sound particularly displeased, just troubled. "You don't have to tell me-"

"I promised I'd be honest," she replied, finally finding the ability to speak.

The blonde looked at her then, sincerity shining brightly in lilac pools. "And _I_ promised to be patient. You don't have to tell me _right now_. I'll wait."

The warrior smiled reassuringly and made to withdraw her hand. Some part of her caved in that moment, though, and she raised her own to gently rest on Yang's wrist, keeping her rough palm pressed against the Atlesian's cheek. She closed her eyes- perhaps it would make things easier, if she didn't watch the emotions playing across her wife's face- and finally released the words that had circled the back of her mind half a hundred times since that night in the kitchen. "You said you were listening that night, that you heard everything."

"I did."

Her emotions swirled but she clamped down on them, reining in everything so she could ask with absolutely no inflection, her voice steady and even. "If Atlas hadn't attacked Vale, would you have chosen to marry Blake?"

The bed shifted and, against her better senses, she opened her eyes to find the blonde sitting up, looking down at her with a fierce intensity. "If she'd asked, I would've said yes, but it honestly didn't occur to me until I heard you say it." She brushed her thumb along the Atlesian's cheek. "I've known Blake for years; she and Junior are my best friends, my comrades-in-arms, my sword and my hammer. And now, that's all they'll ever be." There was no hint of duplicity in her voice or her expression, just that iron clad seriousness Weiss had only seen in regards to her duties as Queen. "If she'd asked, I would've accepted, but she didn't; she had six months to speak up if she wanted to, and she remained silent. I made my choice, she made hers." Something flashed in her eyes then, a frown coming to her lips. "Of anyone, the only one who _didn't_ choose-"

"Don't say that." She sighed, feeling the doubts fade away as she leaned into the woman's touch. "You gave me the option to walk away and I made my decision. Twice over, in fact."

Yang brought their forehead together, resting gently as their breaths mingled between them. "Then, we're in agreement, right? You're my wife, Weiss."

"And you are mine, Yang." She'd thought the night of their bedding was all the affirmation she needed but the words brought with them a rush she hadn't felt in a while. A warmth in her chest sprouted, the same kind that invigorated her like the blonde's semblance yet distinct, different.

"Good." She could see the smile that curved the blonde's lips, hands settling on her slim hips a comforting weight. "If you ever start doubting that, just let me know. I will do whatever it takes to remind you that I chose you. No one else. Not Blake, not Junior, not your brother- _you_."

What?

"My brother?" She drew back slightly in confusion, brows pinching together. But then it dawned on her, with a force to rival the driving rains outside- of course it would be her brother; her father would want to put forth the most appealing offer that could benefit Atlas as well, and combining their bloodlines would put House Schnee in a rather advantageous position. She'd never thought to question why she- the second born daughter- would be offered up as the bargaining chip; it wasn't like her query would've been answered had she the forethought to voice it, anyway. It also fell perfectly in line with everything that constituted her life before coming to Vale. "My father never mentioned that. You chose me over my brother?"

"Of course." The blonde chuckled, leaning forward conspiratorially and winking. "He doesn't sing like a fallen goddess or look like the moon's daughter."

Weiss couldn't help but laugh, incredulous. "You chose to marry me based solely on Jaune's ridiculous exaggerations?"

"He didn't exaggerate. At least, not as far as I can tell." Yang smirked. "Weren't you just teasing me this morning about my thoughts on your form? I've told you before- beauty to rival the Maidens, the sun and moon are jealous, and you're so…" She paused, searching for the right word. "You're more than I can say. I don't have the words to express it." Lilac eyes flicked down, and she could guess it was tempting for the blonde to kiss her, but she refrained and refocused on the conversation at hand. "But, there's something I still don't understand. What Blake said- something about a mistress?"

Dread welled in her heart but she forced it down. She couldn't be surprised that Yang would ask, curiosity plain in her expression with only a little apprehension around the edges, but that didn't make providing the explanation any more appealing.

"Among Atlasian nobility, arranged marriages are often for political or financial gain. It's rather common for the spouses to… take partners on the side. Lovers whom they care for, kiss, love- the marriage itself serves a purpose and that alone, at least as far as the nobility is concerned." She drew away enough to turn her head, suddenly feeling ashamed of a concept that months ago seemed normal as the clouds in the sky, as snow in winter. Mainly because she could see the dark clouds forming in her wife's eyes, feel the spike in heat enveloping her. "Our peasants… they are likely different, but I was never privy to those sorts of interactions. I… indulged in your… affections while I could, I thought… well, you certainly seemed fond of my company, and maybe things were different here."

"They are." Yang looked absolutely horrified, the red returning to her eyes, swirling with the lilac until the latter disappeared entirely.

"I've come to realize that. But there was still a part of me that thought… well, if you _did_ choose someone else, someone you'd known for longer, someone who didn't force you to learn about a whole other culture and language…" She wanted to stand, move away, create distance, but she couldn't be sure she'd be steady on her feet. "It would be easier to accept that reality if I didn't-"

The hands on her hips gripped her more forcefully and pulled, a gasp slipping past her lips as she suddenly found herself being moved into the warrior's lap, arms enveloping her in a tight embrace. Her head was guided to lean against the blonde's shoulder, lips pressing against her ivory locks, and she felt compelled to return the gesture, burrowing into the woman's warmth. They hadn't been this close for this long- outside of their usual sleeping arrangement- since… that afternoon in the clearing, before everything became so difficult, so convoluted, when she could allow herself such simple indulgences without feeling like she was paying on borrowed time.

"Weiss." She tilted her head back, looking up into a deep shade of lilac shining brightly with unshed tears. " _I chose you_. I'll keep telling you until you believe it; we are tied together. No one else will come between us." Strong arms brought them closer together, another kiss being pressed against her brow. "I will be faithful and loyal to you and _only_ you, until _you_ don't wish it anymore."

The Atlesian dug her fingers in the rigid muscles along the woman's back, fighting back the laughter building up in her chest, because how ridiculous had she been this whole time? Denying herself, worrying Yang- all because she just… couldn't accept it. Couldn't understand how this brute of a woman could be the kindest, most sincere person she'd ever met, treating her with nothing short of respect and adoration since that night on the staircase when she first removed her headdress and showed herself, her true self- Yang was never anything but, no matter how many times she doubted the woman.

This time would be different. She turned her head and pressed her lips against the blonde's neck, curling further into her wife's embrace. "You still haven't even heard me sing."

"Not yet, but I will. I know it." She looked up, seeing the determined fire reigniting in Yang's eyes, the kind not born of rage or pain. "I _will_ earn it."

"Yes, you will," Weiss replied, pushing away gently.

On the tip of her tongue sat the words to an old song she'd sung more times than she could count but they remained there, for just a little longer. Now was not the time but… perhaps soon, on a cold day when the warrior Queen sat bent over scroll and scribbling out messages. As she blew out the lights and returned to bed, sliding beneath the covers and immediately finding herself enveloped by the blonde's comforting warmth, an arm around her waist and lips brushing against her ear. The Atlesian turned her head, catching her wife's affections and returning with a bit of her own while laying her arm over the one at her waist, interlacing their fingers. Eventually, Yang settled back, ready for bed and, for a few minutes, she considered falling asleep, entirely content. But then, something came to mind, an impulse that beckoned her to act upon it immediately.

With only the the thunder rolling in the distance and the rain peppering the roof above them, Weiss picked out a melody she'd heard long, long ago, no words accompanying the memory. Simple, soft, and slow, she hummed; it wasn't singing, of course, but it seemed to mean just as much to Yang as it did to her, the significance picked up on instantly as the grip around her waist tightened, the only warning she had before her wife assaulted any flesh she could reach with light kisses. The Atlesian had to break off her nonsensical song, consumed by an unexpected giggle fit as the blonde's vigorous approval tended towards the ticklish side.

They _eventually_ fell asleep, with smiles on their faces and more relaxed than at any point in the past the week.

* * *

AN: Real quick! The steps Weiss follows to warm Yang up are pretty on point, but you should definitely review cold weather survival tips if you happen to be traveling anywhere with a markedly lower climate than your own, and vice versa for hot weather. Also, I actually think it's _not_ recommended to eat/drink warm or hot foods and drinks; the energy required to digest them is higher the further you move away from room temperature and could put you in a worse position. Also, you don't want to apply clothing/blankets that are too hot to the affected area straight away; the drastic change in temperature can cause shock. But it definitely feels better and medicinal practices in this AU aren't the same as modern, real world equivalents. So, basically, while Weiss' actions are generally good guidelines by modern standards, don't take them as gospel. (These are the things I think about when I write shit.)


	10. In Illness

**Disclaimer:** And so the story continues. Sorry about the delay; got called into work unexpectedly.

* * *

Yang awoke with a curse caught in her throat and a thickness in her chest that promised to take a week's worth of coughing to dislodge. Although extremely well versed in using her chi to deter grievous wounds, the blonde had yet to master keeping herself free of illness, which meant her trek through the freezing rain the night before had left her facing the mundane nuisance of a minor cold. Her head felt cloudy, as though she was wading through a swamp just to reach the next thought, and the pressure above the bridge of her nose hinted at built up mucus clogging her sinuses. With a groan, she pushed herself into a sitting position, suddenly aware she was on her back but not quite sure why that set off alarm bells in the back of her mind until she managed to get herself upright. Forcing her bleary eyes open, Yang cast a look around for her wife, an apology replacing the curse as she remembered not only her propensity for snoring but the position which seemed to cause it. Dull lilac searched the immediate area but Weiss was nowhere to be found, though a few things had changed since she'd fallen asleep the night before.

The slim blade had disappeared, likely with its owner, but her gauntlets were laid with care above the orange cloth as always, the fabric looking freshly cleaned rather than simply dried after being peeled off her the night before, and the gleam to the metal spoke of a recent polish applied to it rather than the water spots and mud from when she'd stumbled on her way back home. At first, guilt washed over her, the obvious explanation being that she'd driven the woman from their bed in the wee hours of the morning and the Atlesian had taken to occupying her time with cleaning up after Yang rather than sit idle, but she could see the sliver of bright sunlight peeking past the bottom of the blinds on the window, indicating that it might well be afternoon rather than morning. She'd obviously overslept, which gave her hope that she hadn't rolled onto her back until sometime after Weiss had awoken naturally, but it didn't bode well for her; the messengers from the day before had brought with them enough news to nearly bury her, meaning she'd already lost far too much time to slumber. There was too much to do for her to stay in bed, succumbing to a simple cold. She needed to get to her study immediately, pour over her maps and wrack her brain until a solution presented herself, and she only had about two days to do it by her guess, considering the dire situations presented to her.

Honestly, Yang wasn't even sure if she _could_ find a suitable solution- one that would solve every problem presented to her- but lying in bed certainly wouldn't help her one way or another.

Throwing off the blanket and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, the curse she'd bitten back earlier slipped from her lips as her chest and throat protested the movement, followed by a coughing fit that shook the frame beneath her.

That was as far as she got.

"Yang?" Her wife called from down the hall, entering the bedroom a moment later and scowling when blue eyes fell on the scene before her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I- I have- my study-" The blonde fought valiantly to silence her cough, drawing forth the warmth of her chi to try calming her stuttering lungs, but to no avail. Eventually, she stopped trying to speak, hoping that if she allowed the fit to run its course, she might be able to get her point across before receiving an earful for proving the woman right about her reckless actions the night before. The rain and wind certainly hadn't seemed so bad when she left the tavern's warmth, but the walk home felt longer than ever as the heat was leeched from her body. She pounded on the center of her chest with one closed fist, hoping to loosen the phlegm she could feel clinging to the inside of her lungs and making every breath a battle, the mucus in her nose starting to leak out instead and making the whole situation that much worse. Before she could think to curse her luck, though, slim hands landed on her shoulders, guiding her to lay back down, the covers pulled up to her chin a moment later. From the brief contact, she could feel Weiss' cool chi flow into her, just enough to settle her cough and give her much needed time to catch her breath, the cadence quick and labored. Still, she could at least breathe, so she turned a small, grateful smile to the woman now hovering at her bedside. "Thanks."

"Oh, don't thank me yet," her wife said, blue eyes flashing with determination as her jaw set, the hard expression being directed at the warrior Queen promising no easy way out. " _You_ are in no condition to do anything more than lay there and rest. Going out in a storm like that would've killed lesser people and I'll not stand idly by while you work yourself to the bone trying to meet that end yourself."

Yang opened her mouth to argue but paused. She couldn't ignore her duties, true, but that didn't mean she had to start a fight over it either. Another time, perhaps she'd press the issue and test which of them could be more stubborn, but at present she merely wanted to preserve the warmth she'd felt the night before when they laid down together, at peace with each other for the first time in far too long. The affirmation that she could one day hear the woman sing… she didn't want to push her chances quite yet. "Would you be willing to help me?"

Clearly surprised- either at the lack of rebuttal or the offer, it was tough to say- her wife blinked for a moment before speaking, choosing her words carefully. "What, exactly, do you want help with?"

"The messengers who came yesterday; they need my help." She sighed, wincing at the wheeze that replaced her normal exhale. "Well, two of them do, and a third requires our presence, but each is pressing. I need the maps from my study, a pen brush, a… _lot_ of scrolls, and enough ink to write out my replies." The blonde paused, drawing in a deep breath that nearly sent her into another coughing fit, her chest tightening once again. While Weiss' touch had calmed her before, it hadn't healed her nearly enough to take away the ache of congestion and the lethargy of her body requesting more sleep and sustenance to combat the illness certainly didn't help matters in the least. Yet, she managed to offer a small smile, noting the worry on the Atlesian's face. "I promise, I'll do nothing but rest after I've figured out a way to help them."

Weiss watched her for a moment, lips pressing into a thin line. "You're eating breakfast first. Or lunch, whichever you prefer. After that, I'll bring you whatever you need."

"Deal." Settling back against the headboard, Yang gave a passing thought as to her absent appetite before admitting defeat; food rarely seemed appealing when she was sick, and now proved to be the same, but her wife probably wouldn't accept that explanation as a good enough reason to skip a meal. It seemed better to cede the fight and force down what she could rather than try and talk her way out of it. "It's about lunchtime, right? What's Dad cooking?"

"Stirred noodles, with chicken and vegetables, and a side of fried rice. He mentioned that it's one of your favorite meals and we both thought you could use a pick-me-up considering your health." Blue eyes darted away briefly, drawing Yang's full attention. She could see how the Atlesian seemed torn between speaking more plainly and keeping her thoughts to herself, that age old habit she seemed reluctant to break but also put noticeable effort into doing so, like now. "Our cooking lessons have been quite… enlightening, recently. He's told me more about your favorite foods than you have."

"Well, he's been our resident chef for a while now," she replied, fighting back the tickle in her throat. Swallowing thickly- and handed a cup of warm milk tea that had likely been hot when it was first brought up- Yang fought to keep her cough under control, grimacing as she drew in a slow, steady breath. She found it a tad curious- cooking lessons with Dad, although it brought a smile to the blonde's lips, hadn't been something they'd talked about before- but kept that much in check for the time being, opting to address what other enlightening activities the two were getting up to while Yang attended to her duties. She'd hoped the two would get along and this seemed to be a sign that they were doing just that, but she didn't want the learning to be entirely one-sided. Perhaps Weiss could teach one of them how to make her favorite dishes from Atlas- but that would be something she'd have to address later. One thing at a time. "Lunch sounds delicious."

"I'll bring you some when it's ready." Weiss stood, straightening out her dress- this one was an older Valen style, with another robe beneath it, the cool blue hardly showing through the white outer robe- and then helped tuck the blonde in with quick, gentle tugs on the covers. "Would you like another blanket?"

"No." She wanted to say more, to express her thanks, but she could feel the cough building in her chest and just waiting to burst forth. The last thing she wanted to do was cause the woman to worry further.

"Are you sure?" The skepticism in those blue eyes hinted that no amount of misdirection on the blonde's part would dissuade Weiss but she tried anyway.

"Yep." Yang smiled, silently proud she'd managed the single word without devolving into a coughing fit.

Although wary, her wife accepted her response and left the room, allowing the blonde to quickly grab one of the pillows to bury her face in, muffling the sounds as her lungs began the arduous task of breaking up the phlegm within. The last time she got sick like this was during the early days of the clan war, when she'd yet to master her chi and the fighting took them farther north on the mainland. The cold mountain air had nearly frozen her lungs, burning with every breath in a way that brought pain- nothing like the warmth of a fire or even the sometimes overbearing heat of summer. Back then, she'd tried using her chi to heal herself quickly and got even sicker for it; something about her inner fire simply wouldn't cooperate when it came to illnesses like this.

"I can take an ax to the back and walk away without a scar, but a little cold and I'm suddenly invalid," she said once the fit passed, wincing at the wet sound in her voice that promised more of the same if she continued pressing her luck. It helped, she thought, taking a moment to acknowledge the irony before turning her attention to the dire problems she needed to solve. Her body would take care of itself in time but she had an obligation to help her people when she could, especially when asked directly for assistance.

The matter of _how_ to accomplish that remained to be seen, though; attending to everyone's woes herself would be her default option, of course, but it also proved to be the least feasible- at least, as far as she could remember. Organizing the clans would take a bit of bartering on her part, too, seeing as many had their winter harvest coming up the same as Patch, but those who didn't would likely have the hands to spare. Unless they had a festival devoted to the Winter Maiden pending, which would require extra help to call forth the blessings. She wouldn't want to impede either event, partly because it would impact whoever remained behind and because those who volunteered to go would still worry after their family and friends back home. A distracted mind would be more help than none at all but she'd seen how a warrior driven to distraction made more mistakes; it wasn't the ideal option and she'd prefer to avoid it if she could.

On top of all that, she also needed to visit the Fall Maiden's temple with Weiss to receive their full divination from the Voice. Personally, she didn't put too much stock in those old rituals, though she maintained a profound respect for the Voices and their duties. In bits and snatches, she could remember her younger days alongside Ruby, listening to Mom's stories, the ancient legends that spawned each of the complex rituals carried out by everyone who followed the Maidens' teachings. They'd listened intently, drinking up every word with starry eyes, and feigned sleep at the end of every tale, waiting until their parents went to bed before stirring. Then, the two little girls with dreams of adventure would trade excited whispers about the stories yet to be told, the ones that would chronicle their own journeys across Vale and spawn even more rituals for people to practice, the Voices lifting up their names in song as the Maidens bestowed their blessings. They would slay terrible monsters, rescue beleaguered villagers, and turn the tides of epic battles together to prove themselves worthy heroes in the Maidens' eyes, with speeches given- often by Yang, holding her nose closed to affect a stranger tone- citing their mother and father as raising them to be such superb warriors. Her sister thought that, one day, she would triumph over an evil so great, she would become the tallest mountain in Vale, or a perpetually blooming cherry blossom tree, or be whisked away into the heavens to streak across the night sky as a shooting star. Yang wasn't as ambitious with her aims; all she wanted was a song, an epic ballad sung from temple to tavern detailing her last grand battle, the one where she singlehandedly defeated Gelinlong- the horrible dragon that had put their ancient progenitor, Jianhuren, into his deep sleep.

In hindsight, she'd trade her crown and every ounce of 'glory' just to have her family back.

That was the part both of them had always somehow forgotten about whenever Mom told the stories, or when they read Ruby's books. No one ever woke up and decided to go on an epic quest; something always happened to them. Their parents got sick, their sibling died, their spouse disappeared, their village was destroyed- no quest started out by someone just _choosing_ to look for wrongs to right.

She really wish theirs had.

"Yang?" The blonde blinked, snapping out of her dreary trance as her wife started opening the door. Quickly, she reached up and scrubbed at her eyes, just to ensure she'd removed any evidence of tears beginning to form in them. Yesterday was exhausting enough; now that she was sick, she didn't want to dedicate any more time to becoming mired in her own sorrows, especially not when others were depending on her. "Yang? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, forcing a smile even as she mentally lamented not being able to smell the delicious looking food laid out on the tray Weiss bore. Two full meals plus a steaming kettle; as much as she'd likely struggle through the small talk, she appreciated the company. Being left alone at present didn't seem to be doing her any good. "That looks delicious."

For a moment, her wife seemed more than a little skeptical, but she said nothing as she set the tray down across the blonde's lap and went to fetch a chair for herself. The Atlesian pulled it up to the bedside, allowing them to both use the tray as they ate. Yang considered- briefly, very briefly- that it might be better to pretend she wasn't hungry and wait for her wife to leave the room before trying, the hot steam from both food and drink threatening to send her into another coughing fit, but she really couldn't bear it. She enjoyed Weiss' company and, considering how rough the past few weeks had been, she wanted to take whatever opportunity she could to just… exist, side-by-side. No unspoken tension, no lingering doubts, nothing hidden between them- it was a nice feeling and she wanted to indulge just a bit more.

They began eating in silence, likely because she couldn't fool the other woman in the slightest; she could probably tell that Yang was a hair's breadth away from another coughing fit and opted to give her a chance to clear her lungs out through hot food and drink first. Idly, she mourned that she couldn't properly taste it, because it would be nice to offer a compliment, she thought. An insincere one would do her no favors, though, and it instead opened up a different avenue for conversation.

"Do you-" She cut off, trying to clear her throat a bit before starting again. "Do you miss the food from back home?"

Weiss paused, her chopsticks halfway to her mouth before returning to her bowl as a thoughtful expression crossed her features. "Yes. Some times more than others, but I do." She stirred the contents of her bowl, brows furrowing just slightly. Yang watched between mouthfuls, the congestion in her chest doing its best to distract her, but she remained focused. "Our spices are different. Valens use more chicken than pork. Rice rather than wheat. But I think I've adjusted rather well."

The blonde frowned slightly, allowing a few more moments to pass where they simply ate before starting again. "You seem sad."

"Perhaps a little." Her wife looked up, a small smile on her lips. "I think, sometimes, that I'd like some apple wine or fried pork, or maybe one of our breakfast pastries with the fruit filling- they were some of my favorites." She shrugged. "But… I never learned how to make them myself. I… know how to cook more Valen food than I ever thought to learn of Atlesian cuisine." Returning her attention to the bowl in her hands, Weiss continued without a hint of duplicity in her voice. "However, I have no complaints about Valen meals or learning how to cook them. Your father is an excellent teacher."

"He is," she replied, offering a small grin when blue eyes darted her way. She allowed it to fall in the next moment, when the woman had looked away to grab a drink- warm milk tea, just like Yang. Mentally, she tried to count off the weeks until the next time Coco would stop by their small port. The Vacuon merchant would likely have an easier time acquiring items from Atlas than her Faunus counterpart, she reasoned, and would cut her a fair deal for the trouble. A few recipes and ingredients would warrant at least two more bags of rice and three bundles of wood in addition to the usual agreement but she'd make sure to handle that portion of the transaction herself. The last thing she wanted to do was overburden her people with her own whims; the moment her wife considered her fit to leave the bed, she would personally gather the resources herself. "I hope this cold passes swiftly. I wish I could taste this."

"It's… probably better you can't." Weiss' brow twitched, a frown flashing across her lips. "I… may have added too much salt. Or not enough _fen_?"

Yang chuckled, regretting it almost immediately when she started to cough, raising her forearm to shield her face and doing her best not to upset the tray over her lap. About halfway through, her wife appeared at her side, rubbing her back and the cool bite of her chi appeared again, surging through cloth to sooth aching lungs. At this point, the constant coughing was more an annoyance than actual pain but it still threatened to sap her strength.

"Your cough will pass swiftly if you take care of yourself." Blue eyes fell on her half empty bowls, humming softly. "We'll make you soup or stew for dinner. That should be easier on your throat."

"Have you gotten sick like this before?" She cleared her throat again, feeling the thick mucus sliding down the back of her throat and grabbing the tea to try and ease its passage with a long pull. "I'm- I'm usually healthy as an ox."

That comment received a sharp look as Weiss warily made her way back to her seat. "You shouldn't talk so much; it's just going to make you cough more." At the sheepish grin she received, her wife's expression softened slightly. "I've gotten sick myself a few times, yes. Illnesses like this are common during this time of year in Atlas, but we've become well versed in overcoming them." Her gaze hardened again. "Which is why I'll allow no arguments until you're back to your normal self. The last thing your people need is their queen bedridden for a month, or worse."

Although she sincerely doubted things would get _that_ bad- it wasn't like Valens _didn't_ get sick, during the winter months especially- Yang nodded her acquiescence all the same. She hated being sick, so if her wife had experience in recovering quickly, who was she to argue?

They returned to their meal, the blonde pausing only to drink more of the soothing tea and pound her chest when the loosened phlegm became annoying. Weiss would occasionally lean over if she carried on too long, offering light touches to her shoulders, the soft bursts of cold chi creeping into her chest and calming the muscles. Before the warrior queen had finished her meal, though, she found herself full, her stomach unwilling to entertain the idea of finishing off the last few bites like she normally would. She apologized to Weiss- needlessly, she was assured, but she still felt bad about it- and the woman collected the tray, presumably heading to the kitchen. Some part of her felt even more guilty for that but she tried to remember that doing anything to help would get her more of a lecture than simply waiting until she was healthy to repay the favor.

It was only a _little_ comforting.

When Weiss returned, she bore all the supplies the blonde had requested from the study, plus a fresh kettle with a different sort of tea this time that soothed the creeping sourness in her throat from coughing so much. The first thing she did, aside from taking a steadying gulp of the hot liquid, was grab the map from among the pile, unrolling it across her lap. Lilac eyes scanned across varied terrain and boundary markings, the characters for each of the ruling clans etched by a steady hand.

Ren had created it himself, in the months after his clan fell during the Xiao Long's long march to unite Vale under a single clan's rule. Every mountain and river, every fertile field and the fresh water lakes, and the thick borders separating clan lands- each marked with care and precision that she admired the man for and greatly respected. Very little had changed over the course of the past three years, thankfully, except a name or two as leading families were replaced. Ren's family formerly ruled the southern lands at the base of the mountain range separating them from Vacuo, but his father had stepped down as the official leader to join the Valen defense against Atlas, not wanting divergent loyalties to erupt within the clan when he wasn't there. Ren and his mother had followed, never the sort to be bogged down by status when the lives of others were on the line. When the Lie family returned to find their clan running smoothly, they refused to fight for their former position, content to act as proxies for Yang's edicts now that she was the recognized Queen of Vale, and they'd served that purpose with utmost honor.

She wished Ren was here now and could somehow use his ink to redraw the physical world rather than simply replicate it onto a scroll. Fingers brushed along the space in the middle of the map, across marked forests and a lake and _so much space_ , her shoulders falling in time with the whisper that left her lips. "How am I going to do this?"

"May I ask what the problem is?" Yang looked up, noting the genuine interest and concern in blue eyes as her wife drew closer.

"Two of the messengers from yesterday are from clans requesting my help," she said, swallowing past the itch in her throat and the urge to growl out in frustration as she traced her fingers along the map. "One is here, on the east side of Dragon Tears Lake, and the other here, on the south side of Forever Fall. They're about a three weeks' ride from each other, and from here almost the same; I have to pick one to help first and by the time I get to the other…" She started coughing, covering her mouth again and grimacing as it passed. She put up a hand, trying to ease the concern in Weiss' eyes. "I'm fine." She sighed, shaking her head slowly. "Anyway, the Daichi clan is reporting strange beasts harassing their herds and circling their villages. Takes more than a full quiver of arrows to bring them down, or so it's said. That _should_ be my priority, but they're supposedly holding the creatures at bay with fire. It's wearing on them, though, and using up vital stocks. The Ming clan, on the other hand, is dealing with bandits of some sort. It's a small group, but they're stealing supplies, and with a potentially harsh winter about to bear down on us, that could be terrible. The clan leader would rather rout them, but they've made their hideout in Forever Fall. It's sacred ground."

"I'm not sure I understand." The Atlesian furrowed her brows. "If it's to protect people, does it really matter where these bandits are hiding?"

Yang ran a hand through her hair, suddenly noticing the texture. Despite their attempts to dry it the night before, it obviously wasn't the same as when freshly washed, but she ignored the sensation for the moment. "Yes. Forever Fall is home to the Fall Maiden Temple; the clan leaders will _not_ lead their people into the forest for the purpose of bloodshed."

"And you're somehow different?"

She nodded, and then sighed heavily. "On top of that, we're both being called to the Fall Maiden Temple anyway. The Voice wishes to speak with us- nothing bad. It's just… customary, after unions, to visit the officiator for another blessing." There was more to it, of course, but she needed to drink more of the soothing tea before she could continue. "So, really, three places to be, and no matter what I do, I get the feeling it'll be the wrong decision. If I take too many from Patch to ride with me, I put my home at risk. Too few, and we could suffer unnecessary injuries. Dedicate to one and the other suffers."

Her eyes scanned the map again, as if some secret lay within the rice paper to present a solution. Every hour she delayed, the fate of her people could be hanging in the balance.

"Four messengers, three requests…" Weiss spoke softly, as if presenting the option to the blonde whether or not to answer the unspoken question.

"The fourth…" She lifted her gaze, looking towards the door. "Just… let me know that Ruby's still alive. She sends someone our way when she can." The letter that the lone man had brought with him, tucked away beneath his orange cloak, lay somewhere in her clothing from the night before. He assured her that her sister was heading north as they spoke, but she couldn't be so easily fooled; he hailed from the lands far to the south, and this was nothing more than a defense for her to deny anything her little sister might be doing near the Vacuon border. They rarely favored such subtle measures but both of them learned discretion as a matter of course after Yang took the crown. "She's somewhere in the north. Nothing to be done about that."

"That makes things marginally easier, then." The other woman sat beside her on the bed, tracing along the map. "There are two pressing matters, and both of us are needed at the Fall Maiden Temple. It seems most prudent, then, for you to go aid the Ming in launching a counterattack against the bandits, and I can help the Daichi with these beasts of theirs. We can meet at the Temple after both tasks are complete."

"No," she said immediately, turning to look at the woman beside her. "It's too dangerous. What if you get hurt? What if you get separated from the others and then lost?" More and more scenarios popped into her head, each worst than the last, until she could do nothing more than shake her head. "There had to be another way."

Weiss seemed prepared for a negative rebuke but appeared surprised that it came from a place of worry and not pride, the tilt of her chin and defiance in her eyes shifting to a gentler expression. "I don't think there is. I understand your concerns, Yang, but I won't be alone, correct? I can see the task done or at least keep everyone calm until you arrive. After all, the Ming seem capable of routing the threat, but the Daichi need the extra supplies and warriors. Splitting into two groups seems the best way to approach the problem."

The warrior queen opened her mouth to reiterate her objection but a sudden coughing fit seized her, stopping the words in her throat as she tried pounding on her chest. It did nothing, of course, except maybe vent some of her frustration, but a moment later Weiss' touch was there at the base of her throat. The fit lasted a few more seconds, though it didn't hurt as much as it probably ought to, and the blonde had to concede that her wife seemed to be learning how to utilize her chi more effectively than either of them thought possible.

At the same time, she wasn't quite ready to be fighting bandits or beasts… but neither was Yang the first time she charged into battle, truth be told. They'd skipped the customary rite of passage due to the clan war and she came of age wiping blood from her brow on the battlefield. Half her life was spent fighting, or riding to a fight, or recovering from one, so it was nothing for her to ride off to yet another one even in the midst of peace. Her wife, on the other hand, grew up in relative safety, with high stone walls and tales of the battles but no true experience as part of them. Yet, Weiss was clever and determined, and she'd somehow kept Blake at bay, though the Faunus wasn't truly trying… but of the two options, neither was a proper fight to begin with, so perhaps it didn't matter. The bandits were clever, too, and the beasts strong; anything less and her assistance wouldn't be needed. Two hard fights lay ahead… and she direly wished there _was_ another way.

Briefly, she considered asking her father for help, but instantly dismissed it. The battle that had nearly claimed his life hadn't robbed him of his strength entirely, but he would never fight again and they'd found that out the hard way. His chi wasn't strong enough to protect him anymore, worn down to nothingness in order to save his life, and he only wielded his ax against trees ever since. Plus, with the harvest on the way, every hand that stayed behind would need to pull considerably more weight, and that was exactly the sort of strength he still possessed that Weiss certainly didn't, though through no fault of her own. In time, it would come, but they didn't have that at present.

When she could breathe easier, and after finishing off her cup and halfway through the next, she looked at the woman beside her. "Will you promise me you'll be careful?" She tried to keep the quiver out of her tone but it was there, hinting at all the unspoken worries and concerns. "Retreat the moment things don't work out. Just your presence may be enough to deter the worst. You don't _have_ to fight."

The hand at her clavicle traced up, cupping her cheek softly. "I promise I'll be careful." She held her hand there long enough for Yang to lean into the contact before drawing away, taking the map out of the blonde's lap and beginning to roll it up. "Whatever these beasts are, I'll do my best to eradicate them."

"No." She settled back against the headboard, furrowing her brows slightly. "You'll go deal with the bandits." The warrior held up a hand, preempting the argument before it began. "These beasts are too strong to fight with a sword or spear. We have to bring them down or weaken them from afar before even trying up close. Can you shoot a bow?"

"Well… no." Her wife quirked a brow. "You can?"

"Every Valen learns." Yang took a deep breath, suddenly feeling weary. Now that the hot meal had settled in her stomach and she at least had a working theory of how to deal with the situation, it seemed her body was rather keen on getting more rest. She couldn't give into the inclination, though; she still had too much work to do. "Sword, ax, staff, bow, fists- the five core disciplines. I can use a bow… I just don't _like_ it."

There were better ways of articulating that, but it escaped the woman at the moment. It wasn't easy, being locked in mortal combat with others, be they countrymen or foreigners, but being able to see the looks in their eyes, feel their strength matching hers; it made the fights easier to handle, easier to process, granting her the split second decision to take or spare a life just by pulling her punches a little or allowing her full weight to carry her through. Her dad tried to get her to take to the ax- or the staff arts, like Summer and Ruby- but she'd taken the route that suited her. It was for the best, to her mind.

"I suppose that makes sense." Weiss made a thoughtful noise, looking over at Ember Celica resting peacefully on the dresser. She could see in the woman's eyes the desire to prod further, ask more questions, but she refrained, instead walking over to the desk and setting down the map so she could bring over the necessary items to write out her responses. Even if she hadn't gotten sick, the blonde would've sent word ahead of them that help would be on the way. She could only hope they wouldn't arrive too late. "When you're feeling better, maybe we can talk about that some more."

"You want to learn?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she chuckled; of course the woman would. Not a single aspect of the blonde's people or upbringing came up without the Atlesian trying to learn more, and doing an impressive job of it, too. "When we get back. Promise."

Her wife gave her a small smile before her brows furrowed. "Are you certain no one will object to me entering…" she paused "… Forever Fall?"

"I'm sure." She winced, trying to pass it off as just discomfort from her illness and not a flicker of doubt on her part. It made perfect sense to her, of course- she carried with her the blessings of the Maidens, or so her people believed, and her life was now entwined with Weiss' as one- but the Ming clan had remained lukewarm on the topic of her marriage. They might be inclined to reject the woman's presence once she arrived. "But if anyone gives you trouble, just go to the Temple and I'll meet you there. Or just stage a defense."

She'd meant it as honest advice but the flicker of annoyance that passed over her wife's expression indicate it wasn't received as such. "I'll keep that in mind but I'm certain it won't be necessary."

"Me too," she replied with a small, hesitant smile. "I know you can take care of some lowly bandits."

"Of course I can. I've had excellent teachers." Weiss watched her for a moment before taking back the scrolls and ink, setting them on the bedside table. "You can send out your replies later. Right now, you need to sleep." The blonde tried to argue but found herself on the receiving end of a forceful glare. "You're tired, are you not?" She nodded. "It's your body telling you to rest. Listening will do you and your people more good in the long run."

"Okay." Shuffling down slightly, Yang let out a sigh while her eyes slid closed, apparently keen on obeying the woman's suggestions. "But… just a nap."

She heard soft footfalls by the door, too heavy to belong to Weiss and their owner revealed himself a few moments later. "How long do colds like this one usually last?"

"Just a few days. If she rests well and doesn't waste her energy arguing with me." Yang's lips twitched into a soft smile, amused by the light teasing the words implied. Even if the whole series of events brought her to this moment of bedridden, annoying agony, it seemed her wife had finally become more comfortable here, enough to return to taking light jabs at each other and earn her a gentle kiss to her forehead. She kept her eyes closed and they seemed content to lower their voices while exiting the room, leaving her to her illness induced slumber.

"Hmmm… I guess there's no helping it." The man sighed, heading back out of the room. "We were supposed to start gathering firewood from the north side of the forest today."

Her brows furrowed. Damnit, he was right; on top of everything else, they still had to gather as much wood to start the tedious process of drying it out before the weather worsened. With winter on the horizon, she'd hate for a shortage to lead to long, cold nights for the residents of Patch.

"Perhaps I can assist you?" Weiss offered, seeming rather confident. "I've little experience with an ax, but there surely must be _something_ I can do to assist."

Forcing her eyes open, Yang started to sit up just as the door closed, the two stepping out into the hall. She almost called out- because _like hell_ her wife was going to spend hours hauling wood thanks to an inconvenient cold- but her father's thoughtful hum stopped her.

"Now that you mention it, I think we can work something out," he said with a chuckle. "Go grab a snack from the kitchen and meet me by the door." Yang had almost sat up when the door opened again, her father peeking his head in with a smile. "Thought that'd get your attention. Don't worry, I'm not going to take her into the forest."

"You know she'd do it." She coughed to clear her throat, grimacing slightly while swallowing down a mouthful of phlegm. "Weiss would _find_ a way."

"I know, and that's why I'm going to take her into town." His eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "I think it's about time she met Grandmother." Yang's shoulders slumped, mouth opening to object as another coughing fit seized her. Her father chuckled, amused by her concern. "I'm sure she'll be fine. Get some rest, little dragon; you deserve it."

"But- wait- stop!" Despite her attempts, she ultimately failed to articulate anything remotely convincing to stop Taiyang before he slipped back out of the room, the sound of the front door echoing up to the second floor. Bonelessly, she collapsed back against the bed, focusing on clearing her throat enough to breathe while running a hand over her face.

Silently, she begged the Winter Maiden to give her wife patience… and Jianhuren to protect anyone foolish enough to try and mediate the impending battle of wills. It might be an empty gesture but it was all she _could_ do, aside from closing her eyes and reaching deep within herself to stoke her chi into hurrying her recovery process.

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AN: So! I'm afraid this story will be on hiatus for 2-3 weeks. Long story short, the next few chapters have to be rewritten entirely and I've been swamped between work, responsibilities, and Elderburn Week. The good news is that I know what I have to fix and I have a pretty solid idea how to do it, just finding the time to get it down and properly edited has been difficult, and I didn't want to rush through it and cause even more problems further down the line. When it comes back, posting will resume on Fridays. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, faved, and followed; the support is greatly appreciated.


	11. Grandmother

**Disclaimer:** I think this officially qualifies me as a necromancer. If you're one of the ones who thought this would never get an update, you are probably just as surprised as I am. You might need to reread the previous chapters before diving into this one.

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Weiss silently followed her father-in-law into town, the concern she might not be up to whatever task awaited her niggling at the back of her mind, shunted only by her confidence that she could manage to be of _some_ use. Four hands, whatever the task, were better than two, and while she might not possess the same manner of skill or strength as Yang or her father, that didn't automatically preclude her from offering her assistance. Yang's plan to tackle her people's troubles relied on enough preparations being done prior to their departure; the more they accomplished, the fewer would need to stay behind, and she doubted the blonde wouldn't work herself as hard as possible once she recovered towards that end. With her wife bedridden at present, however, she had quite the quota to meet. Hopefully, determination would carry her in lieu of experience. All she had to do was keep the bigger picture in mind and assure Yang that she wasn't pushing herself too hard regardless.

"Weiss?" Taiyang stopped when the two stood on the outskirts of the village proper, brows drawn together in concern. "I appreciate you volunteering to help out while Yang's sick, I do, but I don't think you can help me with the wood collecting. It can be hard and dangerous work sometimes and I have the feeling you'll end up hurting yourself without me watching you closely."

"Well... thank you for your concern," she said, hiding her wounded pride behind a begrudging smile. "Is there... _any_ way I can help?"

"There is, and it's not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but I think you'll be able to handle it." He nodded, a smile on his lips that spoke of relief and a touch of amusement. "I'm taking you to see Grandmother. She coordinates a lot of our preparations for winter and she's been in charge when Yang and I have been away during the wars. She's the best person to ask about where you can apply yourself." He turned, leading her into the village. With the midday sun already high overhead, everyone seemed to be bustling about, checking their homes for damage from the storm and setting to the repairs while others- mostly children- took notes on what materials would be needed. Along the main thoroughfare, merchants freshly arrived that morning began crying for their goods while the sounds of hammers against wood and metal punctuated the air. Still others were either heading out to the fields or coming back, the former just finishing lunch while the latter appeared eager for theirs. "Last time I talked to her, Grandmother said she'd start making the harvest preparations about now, so there should be plenty of need for extra hands, no matter how skilled."

"Hopefully, she can find a task I can handle." It did sting, the sense of uselessness, but she had to face facts: Atlas did not prepare her for a life of labor nor imbue her with a plethora of skills to utilize somewhere outside the noble court of her homeland. She could either dwell on her lack of physical strength or apply herself fully to whatever awaited her and make a mental note to develop suitable skills once they'd returned from the Fall Maiden temple. "Although, I didn't realize Grandmother Xiao Long lived so close."

Or at all, frankly, but she had enough sense not to be so crass in regards to the topic. She'd assumed, given Yang's recounting of her family history, that all unaccounted members of her family had passed, either when she was too young to know them or during the wars, and the subjects were best left untouched for the time being. It didn't seem like her wife to go months without mentioning a living member of her family- although they'd yet to meet, Weiss had already heard half a hundred tales of her sister, Ruby- unless something had happened...

Perhaps switching to this particular topic to distract herself wasn't the wisest decision.

"Oh, sorry, she's not _my_ mother, or grandmother, or anything like that." Taiyang laughed, looking at her over his shoulder. "She's the clan Grandmother. Yang probably hasn't had time to mention the clan titles, huh? It can be tricky but the extra ' _-sa'_ denotes a title rather than familial relation."

"I suppose that makes sense." At his raised brow, she clarified. "I wondered why so many people called you 'Father'; I thought it stood as a shortened version of 'Father of the Queen'."

"Hmmm, is that an official title in Atlas?"

"Not exactly." She cleared her throat gently, not wanting to imagine what ridiculous and overly pompous title her father now bore. Winter's coronation and Whitley's wedding had both passed by this point but she doubted he'd simply retire to the small cottage kept at the very back of the castle's grounds, tucked away in a copse of trees. Many things the man could do, but relinquishing control of absolutely anything would never be one of them. "But I assumed it's simply one of those times where our countries differ."

"Well, I bear it because I'm still seen as the clan leader; Yang's word beats mine but she can't possibly be everywhere at once." He waved at a few people who called out to them, heading much further into the village than she ever had previously. Although it seemed odd in hindsight, Weiss grew up in Castle Schnee, rarely given leave to explore beyond the perimeter walls. It didn't strike her as strange, then, when most of her time was spent in the little house, the clearing, or the woods in between; that she hadn't taken the past few months to explore the village or the island now seemed shortsighted on her part. "When..." For a moment, Taiyang paused, swallowing thickly. "When Summer... was alive, she was the clan Mother." He glanced at her, bittersweet pride shining in unshed tears. "To be honest, I'm not sure which of us was the leader back then. If people said her, I wouldn't argue; she could be a force of nature and yet gentle as a falling leaf."

Despite her personal misgivings, Weiss managed to give her father-in-law a genuine smile. "So that's where Yang gets it from, hmmm?"

"Yeah. I'd say so." He chuckled, blinking rapidly. "I see so much of her in the girls." They came to a stop, his gaze sweeping over the people all around them. "Honestly, I see her in everyone, in every beam of every house. She touched every part of Patch, and every person along the way..."

The corners of her lips threatened to twitch into a frown. Speaking more openly about Summer was a step in the right direction but it _probably_ wasn't wise to dwell on the topic for too long. However, changing the topic might be a bit tricky. "Yes, I've... noticed some common habits shared among the people here. Yang mentioned that Valens rely on tight knit communities to maintain your strength and I thought that might have something to do with it."

Taiyang blinked and shook his head, seemingly snapped out of a memory and looking around for a moment before meeting her gaze. "Oh, well, yes, that's the long and short of it. Vale hasn't had anything more unified than the warrior council that fell apart decades before the clan war started." They started on their way again, a soft smile on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We've never taken well to the idea of pledging loyalty to someone outside our clans. Some stranger far away to have final say over our lives? It just doesn't sit well with us on the whole."

She furrowed her brows. "How, then, did you get everyone to agree to a monarchy?"

"People are remarkably flexible in their beliefs when an ax is pressed against their throat," he replied, a sort of haunted grimness coming to his expression. His gaze darted her way, briefly, before he continued. "I'm also a bit more... persuasive when angry. After we... after we lost Summer, I don't think I possessed many emotions other than furious. After the first few victories, word spread to the other clans before we could reach them- that I carried the Maidens' vengeance within me and none could stand against it. When I said I would spare their lives if they obeyed me, few had the fight left in them to question it. And what restlessness might've arose was crushed when Yang broke the Atlesian attack." A little bit of fear crept into his expression. "As long as it seems like we hold the Maidens' blessings, Vale will remain unified."

"You believe things might change in the future?" A familiar sensation crawled up her spine as the words left her lips, remembering all too vividly the harried look in her father's eyes as he received report after report of sustained losses and growing unrest, agony and despair fueling rage that would eventually be directed towards the crown.

"People brought together by fear don't share the same bond as those brought together by love," he replied, shaking his head. "I worry that our people will forget the threats we faced with time. How many generations before the war with Atlas is but a distant memory? Your children, your grandchildren, the ones after them?" A sigh slipped past his lips. "I worry about these things."

She allowed the conversation to lapse into silence, wanting to avoid the topic of future generations for a while longer. She hadn't touched on it yet- Yang seemed so adamant in remaining faithful that the obvious question didn't occur to her until much later- and reasoned that her wife would have more say on the matter than anyone else.

Her gaze drifted around, noticing for the first time how it seemed everyone had their own part to play and hardly anyone seemed idle. Even the elderly, sitting out in front of the buildings that served as either stores, homes, or storehouses, seemed to have something to do, weaving together straw or yellow, semi-flexible plants for either houses or cloaks, some working leather for harnesses or clothing, and still others tinkering with all manner of craftsman tools while children either watched attentively or remained close while their gazes wandered- the difference, she supposed, being whether or not the child intended on picking up the trade. "It seems like everyone has their place here. I'd assume the same for leadership?"

Taiyang laughed as they turned, heading towards the island's interior just before the path that lead out to the fields she'd seen beyond Summer's gravemarker. "Actually, that gets kinda... interesting. In our youth, we spend time learning from all the trades our people need- I learned to be a woodsman from my father, I learned to cook from my mother, and to bake from the baker, to shoe from the ferrier, and to sew from the tailor- though I was never much good at those last two. When it comes to leading the clan or holding a significant role within it, it comes down to the individual more often than the bloodline."

Weiss reached up to quickly rub at her temple. None of this made sense but she supposed that simply came down to unfamiliarity and an ocean of nuance that couldn't be explained, only experienced. "So this... Grandmother... she chose to take on the mantle?"

"I'm... honestly not sure how Grandmother earned her title; she seemed to be unanimously given it by the time we returned from the warfront the first time." They took a turn, around a few trees to see a house with walls about waist high all the way around it, one especially large trunk standing tall behind the building while its branches spread out, keeping the whole property in the shade. "I don't think anyone would want to argue with her, anyway. I sure don't."

Etched into the wooden gate barring entry to the compound was an emblem- a charging boar with great tusks, wings protruding from its back, and Weiss found it odd that a pig, of all creatures, would be shown with wings while Valen depictions of dragon typically didn't- and it repeated on various posts and walls enough for it to be the house sigil. Most Valens seemed to possess them, which contributed to her confusion upon arriving at Fort Beacon; in Atlas, only noble families would be gifted such heraldry.

"They're a tough bunch, the whole family." Taiyang led the way, pushing open the gate with ease. "But Grandmother herself is the hardest one. Don't try to impress her; I honestly don't think it's possible."

"She sounds intimidating." Weiss could see the family garden off to the side and what looked to be a forge around the corner, though no fire burned within. In the distance, she could hear the soft sounds of horses neighing and chickens clucking, though she found evidence of neither out front. "Are they the farmers of the village?"

"One of many, but they primarily tend to our livestock and maintain the stables, among other things." Taiyang raised a hand, grabbing the big brass knocker held in the boar's mouth and banging it against the wood a few times. A few shouts echoed from within before the door pulled open, two young men about ten years old laughing and smiling until they saw the man standing on the other side. Almost immediately, they tried to push the door closed but that appeared to be the reaction her father-in-law expected, pushing her shoulder into the hard wood to keep it propped open. "Wing, Wei, if your mother finds out you're being rude, she's going to be upset."

"But you only show up when you want us to do _work_!" One of the little boys spoke through gritted teeth as he put all his strength into pushing against the door.

His twin seemed like minded. "Yeah, and that's no fun!"

Taiyang gave the Atlesian a shrug, putting up no effort himself in keeping the entryway propped open. "What if I promised to teach you the last ten ax forms?"

They stopped, looking at each other quietly for a moment before stepping back from the door with matching smiles on their faces. "Really?"

"You're old enough to progress." The man nodded, expression twisting as he tried to remember something. "How many forms do you have left before you two undertake the rite?"

"Just ax and sword!" One piped up while the other frowned.

"And staff, but... we _really_ don't want to do that one."

"I'm not surprised." Taiyang chuckled, reaching out to ruffle the boys' hair. "Where's Grandmother?"

Someone tsked behind them, making Weiss' shoulders jump. "And they say _I'm_ the blind one." The Atlesian turned, doing her best to appear completely unconcerned about the appearance of the woman. She hardly came up to Weiss' shoulders, with her hair pulled back into a bun, the strands turned white with age, and a green headband keeping them together to match the green shift she wore, the fabric falling down to around her calves. Although the wrinkles made it somewhat difficult to tell off the bat, Weiss got the distinct impression that the woman was none too pleased about their appearance at the house. "Who're you?"

"Grandmother-"

"Hush, I know who _you_ are," she said, a bite to her words as she used the staff in her hand to lightly tap Weiss' shoulder without looking at her. " _You,_ I don't know, and you can speak for yourself, can't you?"

Although taken off guard by the interruption, the Atlesian quickly squared her shoulders and spoke in an even tone. "I'm Queen Consort Weiss, formerly of house Schnee, wife to Queen Yang of House Xiao Long."

The old woman's expression twisted. "Geez, that's a mouthful. I'll call you... Stick." Using the staff, Grandmother poked at Weiss' stomach, the jab a bit too sharp and pushing her back a step. "See? Can hardly stand on your own two feet. Have you even been feeding her, Tai?"

"Hey, take it easy on her," he said, laughing with a twinkle in his eye as the man clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Yang's sick and Weiss here volunteered to help out. But-"

"But, no one bothered teaching her anything useful, just like all the _other_ Atlesians who've come to our shores." Grandmother cleared her throat and spat off to the side, grumbling something too low to be caught. "Fine. Take the twins and get going. The wood won't fetch itself." The old woman managed to whack the man's arm a few times, lightly, to encourage him, the boys leading the way towards the main gate without a word of complaint. Now left alone with someone who promised to be a strict taskmaster, Weiss tilted her chin up and straightened her posture, waiting for directions with a slight tremor of concern fighting the tension in her shoulders. "Well, now we'd best get to work. You've got a lot of chores to do."

"Yes, Ma'am." Weiss nodded, noting that the woman still hadn't properly looked at her. "Where should I start?"

"In the barn. You'll need to lead the oxen out to pasture before you can starting cleaning it." She started to move towards a well worn path leading around the house when she stopped. "Before we get to that, let's get something straight real quick." When Grandmother turned back, she looked up and that's when the light fell on clouded eyes. "I was being serious about the blind thing but I can see more than _you_ ever will. Keep that in mind and we'll get along just great. And don't call me 'ma'am'."

"Yes, Grandmother," she replied quickly, surprised at the bluntness with which she was addressed. Aside from being introduced to the various clan leaders, she hadn't interacted with the villagers much. Perhaps being Yang's wife didn't carry as much weight as she thought in Vale.

The older woman sighed, shaking her head. "You're soft. We'll see how long you last. Now, come along."

With trepidation mounting in her heart, she followed Grandmother, surprised that her staff didn't seem to move half as often as she'd expect it to in order to find the way. Then again, she suspected 'surprised' would be the theme for the day as the barn loomed in the distance, a structure just as large as the house and easily twice the size of Yang's home.

This... would not be easy.

As they came up to the large, sliding door at the front of the barn, opened just a little bit as the sounds of the animals within became louder with every step they drew closer. Rather than reaching for the handle to the door once they reached it, the older woman stopped, tapping at her shoulder with the staff, and how she managed to be so accurate would probably forever elude Weiss. "I'm sure you'll have to ask in an hour or two but I'm going to run through everything now, on the off chance you have more sense than the rest of your lot." Clouded eyes never looked directly at her but the woman turned all the same. "You'll need to lead all the oxen out to the pasture. Then, muck out all the stalls. Once you're done with that, you need to put down fresh hay and move the rest up to the loft. Then, bring back all the oxen for the night."

"That seems reasonably straightforward," she said, a flicker of annoyance passing over her expression. While she didn't have the experience or skillset required for such work, she absolutely _wasn't_ entirely inept.

"Straight forward but tricky," the woman said, huffing out a breath. "These oxen are our life blood; they plow the fields and haul the wagons. They work hard when the harness is on but some of them are downright ornery when they know there's no work to be done yet." Flipping her staff around, Grandmother thrust it forward, _somehow_ managing to slip it into the opening between the door and the jam. With a single motion that flowed too quickly for Weiss' eyes to follow, the slim wooden staff slammed against the door, pushing it wide open. "Which means, you'll need to bully them a little, but if you harm them, not even your wife'll be able to save your hide. Am I understood?"

"Of course," she replied, following Grandmother into the barn and biting back a curse.

Somehow, it looked _even bigger_ from the inside, with at least twenty stalls and an oxen or two to each. The beasts were huge, too, clearly more muscle than fat, and only about half even deigned to raise their heads and acknowledge the humans before returning their attention to whatever had occupied them previously. Sixteen heads, she quickly counted, and none of which looked particularly easy to 'bully' considering her stature.

"Well, you'd best get to it." The old woman turned around, nodding towards the wall. "Over there you'll find the ropes to tie them together and lead them out. Do you need to be shown how to do that?"

"No, thank you. I can manage." Weiss did her best to keep the scowl out of her voice.

"Don't get snippy with me because your people don't know anything useful," she replied, heading out of the barn. "You'll need your energy."

Left alone with only the chuffing of the oxen and her own thoughts, she drew in a deep breath before turning towards the wall and collecting up the ropes. Bridles of some sort- woven together rather than treated leather- hung on the gates leading into each stall and she could see a little bit hanging down, which she assumed to be where the ropes could be tied or threaded through.

It seemed reasonable to put the bridles on first, then tie them together, so she set the ropes down and went to the nearest stall, pushing up the wooden lever keeping the door closed and stepping inside. The oxen didn't budge, didn't seem the least bit bothered by her intrusion, and hardly looked up even as she approached, bridle in hand. She stepped up beside the beast's shoulder, putting her hand on it as she'd seen the knights do with their mounts to calm and steady them, noting the texture of the cream colored hair beneath her palm.

"Easy. Steady," she said, bending over and trying to loop the end of the bridle over the oxen's nose. Not that it was making things any easier, munching away on some hay and turning its head away from her, but she tried regardless, shuffling around trying to get a good angle.

Just before she'd managed to do it, the creature twisted his head away, the blunt side of its horns knocking into her shin and forcing her to retreat a step as she rubbed her leg. It wasn't exactly a _hard_ impact, but she worried it might leave a bruise on her pale skin, and she loathed the idea of explaining to Yang how she'd received it. Admitting to a bit of clumsiness was one thing but owning up to the idea that she was just as clueless and unsuited to the task at hand as Grandmother implied... her pride had suffered enough damage recently. At the very least, she could return to Yang's home and have proven herself useless rather than covered in bruises due to incompetence.

So, she tried again. And again. And each time had to jump out of the way as either a hoof or horn nearly caught her.

Frustration mounting, she followed her impulse, gritting her teeth and grabbing the oxen by one horn, pulling its head back around. Despite all the muscle packed into the beast, it followed _that_ direction rather easily, and she managed to wrangle the bridle around the oxen's muzzle and tie it off behind flicking ears.

"About time." She muttered to herself, turning around and marching out of the stall to go to the next one, lifting up the latch and entering, annoyed by how long _one_ had taken and absolutely dreading _fifteen more._ However, before she could start, she heard an ominous creak, and turned back in time to see the first oxen nosing open the stall door she'd forgotten to close in her haste to make up the lost time. "No! Don't!"

Too late.

The door opened enough for the beast to start walking out and Weiss had to dart around, blocking its path as best she could and pushing on its head, trying to force the creature back into its stall. However, it took absolutely no effort on the beast's part to push her back, shoes scraping against the dirt and straw as she found no purchase. Thankfully, she finally found the traction she desperately needed, planting her feet and pushing back with all her might against the beast.

That was when it decided to turn its head one way and its body the other, leaving her suddenly pushing against nothing and unable to stumble forward to catch herself.

She landed flat on her face.

"Ugh." Spitting dirt from her mouth, Weiss looked back to see what she's managed to step on that would hold her so fast she'd be unable to catch herself and bit back a curse at seeing the deteriorating remnants of two little snowflakes. On top of the impossible task set before her, now she had to contend with her own inability to control her semblance. Unbelievable. "Stupid beast..."

She managed to push herself to her feet, the knowledge of what had rooted her to the spot apparently enough to dispel the snowflakes entirely. By some stroke of luck, the oxen hadn't wandered far, and she managed to grab onto the bridle and tie one of the ropes to it and the nearest beam, hoping the knot would hold while she got the others ready.

But when she turned to look at the others, weariness settled across her shoulders.

Weiss had a _very_ long day ahead of her.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," she said, the mutter low and filled with a sort of aggressive determination as she pictured the look Yang would give her if she admitted defeat now.

It wouldn't be disappointment or anger, no; her wife would look at her with nothing but concern and swear she'd never get sick again. Their time together had proven that much, that the woman would rather take on all the responsibility than burden anyone else, and she'd be entirely content if Weiss never lifted a finger for the rest of her days.

But the Atlesian had her pride to consider and she'd be capable of at least doing this much.

Or she'd die trying.

* * *

The sun beat down from overhead, soft rays fit for a late summer day in Atlas but apparently a sign of a grave winter for the Valens, and it made the inside of the barn warmer than it had any right to be. Weiss couldn't quite understand it but also lacked the time and energy to consider the temperature difference while wiping sweat from her brow and looking around at the bridled oxen. Hours of fumbling and fighting and trying to strong arm creatures many times her size, but she'd somehow managed it.

Now, she just had to get the to the pasture...

... the location of which, she didn't know.

"Great." She set her hands on her hips and tilted her head back, looking towards the roof of the barn. "Now what?"

"You take them out to the pasture." Her shoulders jumped as she whirled around, finding Grandmother standing by the barn doors with a frown on her lips. "You forgot already?"

"I didn't _forget_ ," Weiss said, a tightness to her voice as she tried to keep from outright snapping at the woman. "Just... point me in the way of the pasture. Please."

The older woman grunted, sweeping out slowly with her staff until she hit on one of the oxen- the one she'd tied off to a post- and ran her hand over the ropes, clucking her tongue. "You tie knots like a child." With a hand following the beast's flank, she moved to one of the stalls and made another noise with her mouth that had the oxen obediently lifting their heads for her, allowing her to inspect the bridles. "You got better as you went though. That's _something_ at least."

Her hands clenched into fists, pinpricks of pain originating from the spots where her skin had rubbed raw by the ropes and bridles and knots.

"I'll take them to the pasture." Grandmother took the ropes into her hand and began stringing the bridles together. "You'd probably get lost on the way there."

She had to bite her tongue and pursed her lips together, holding her frustrations in check. The condescension didn't bother her so much- the belittling, the abrasive tone, none of that seemed out of the ordinary for her. She'd almost forgotten her days in the castle, listening to much of the same from her father, but it came back to her with ease.

But back then, only she would be affected. If word somehow got back to Yang, she worried how her wife might react, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause the woman excess worry. Weiss wouldn't put it past her to march out of bed, sick as she was, to come argue with Grandmother, and being the source of that would vex her to no end.

"Start mucking out the stalls. At least have _one_ done by the time I'm back and I'll consider it a victory."

"Yes, Grandmother," she replied, watching as the old woman led the way and the oxen followed obediently, not even pulling at their ropes or letting them go slack.

As the last one passed through the barn doors, the wind slipped in, and she sighed as it cooled the sweat on the back of her neck. She allowed her eyes to close, remembering the breathing exercises Yang had taught her and finding her center again.

Belatedly, it occurred to her that, while she did understand that 'muck out the stalls' meant removing everything from the floor, to include trampled hay and fecal matter, she had no idea where to _put_ all that once she got it out.

"Great." A sigh slipped past her lips as she opened her eyes, spying a wheelbarrow in the corner, alongside some shovels and rakes. Tools and a method to transport- logically, there had to be somewhere she'd be expected to dump everything, and it couldn't be _that_ far away.

She just needed to find it and get to work.

* * *

Weiss grunted and groaned, lifting up another shovelful of who knew _what_ and doing her best to brace it against the shaking of her arms. Six stalls down out of sixteen and everything hurt- her back, her legs, and her arms most of all- but she piled the wheelbarrow high and set the shovel to lean against the stall, trudging around to grab the handles and lift it up to start pushing. At this point, she couldn't tell which bothered her more: the sweat rolling off her from all the hard work or the grime covering her from wrestling with the oxen and occasionally dumping the muck onto herself when she lost her grip on the shovel.

As she pushed the wheelbarrow out of the barn, she had to come to a stop, her path around to the backside of the barn where the manure pile sat blocked by Grandmother.

"Looks like you've figured _something_ out," she said with another frown on her lips. "How many have you actually cleaned?"

"Six," she replied, trying to keep her arms steady and not rest the wheelbarrow. "I have ten left."

"Oh, and you can do basic math. Color me impressed." With the staff, she knocked against the side of the wheelbarrow and hummed, nodding. "Drop that load and then wait here for me."

"Yes, Grandmother." To her credit, she managed to keep her voice steady and expression smooth despite the sting. No doubt she'd done something else wrong and would be corrected, which would ultimately just mean that she'd be able to do it right the next time she attempted the task.

With a huff, she made it around the last corner and dumped the load onto the pile, using the shovel next to it to consolidate the addition a little better. She did it quickly, not wanting to catch even more flak for being anything short of prompt in returning to the front of the barn, and she ignored the renewed aches in her hands from the blisters that now covered them. Hopefully, on her way back to the cabin, her body would heal itself; she worried how Yang might react if she returned with her hands torn up from a day spent working.

Idly, she thought back to her days in Atlas, looking down from stained glass windows to the dirt streets below. She'd watched people toil, through harsh winds and snow and through the warmer summer days, and never had any frame of reference for what she saw. The furrow to their brows, the tension across their shoulders- how heavy were their burdens?

Having a war looming over their heads on top of everything else... how blind had her father been all this time?

"Good, you're back." Before she'd even turned the corner, she could hear Grandmother's voice, and the moment she did she found the old woman sitting there with a few covered bowls and a little bucket filled with water. "Wash up as best you can and eat. You smell like ox shit."

Rather than comply, her brows pinched together. "I should probably go check on Yang. She's bound to be hungry."

"I sent my youngest to go check on her." She paused, humming. "Might've sent my granddaughter, too. Dunno." She picked up a bowl and produced a pair of chopsticks from her sleeve. "That part's a little fuzzy; they all kinda look alike." Weiss knelt down by the water bucket, pushing her hands into the cold water and biting back a sigh of relief as she began washing her hands. "That was a joke."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have a sense of humor." Grandmother sighed. "Shame."

Nothing she could say would be worth the effort, she thought, so instead she merely washed off her face. Then she grabbed the second set of bowls and looked around for a set of chopsticks but... there were none to be found.

Which meant she could either eat with her hands or ask.

Neither seemed particularly appealing.

Eventually, through grit teeth, she ventured. "May I please have a set of chopsticks?"

Grandmother grunted, reaching into her sleeve and pulling out a set, holding them out to her. Surprised by the easy acquiescence, she reached for them, only to have them yanked away when she closed her hand.

Nevermind _how_ the woman accomplished such when she couldn't see, Weiss found her mounting frustration reaching a boiling point. "Please, give me the chopsticks."

"You must earn them first."

" _Earn_ them?" At that, she reached her breaking point. "I've done everything you've asked- perhaps not to your standard, perhaps poorly, but I've _tried_ \- and now you _dare_ insinuate I haven't earned them?"

With a sly grin she couldn't quite comprehend, the old woman held out the chopsticks to her once more, and she quickly snatched them up before they could be yanked away. Then, she dug into the first bowl she grabbed- plain white rice- and started eating, hardly stopping to swallow.

"You both have a temper. That's good."

"I _beg_ your pardon?" She looked up, glaring openly- not that Grandmother seemed the least bit concerned, of course, but it made her feel better. "If you're trying to make light of something-"

"That wasn't a joke." She paused, setting her chopsticks across her bowl for the moment. "When Tai led you here, you were hiding your thoughts, guarding them. You're not genuine- towards him, towards me… that doesn't exactly bode well for how you are with Yang." Grandmother, set the bowl down, resting her elbows on her knees. "But when you're angry… you show your soul, and that's important. Emotions are too powerful to be kept hidden; they'll always burst free. When Yang's do, she changes the course of history. You have that power, too."

"I doubt that," she replied, her expression softening slightly. "But I'm _trying_ to act in a manner that would be expected of me as Yang's wife and you're making it _exceedingly_ difficult. I don't- I'm learning to _not_ hide myself from Yang, but this is different-"

"It's not." Folding her hands together, Grandmother rested her chin atop them, chuckling softly. "You said it yourself- you're trying to 'act in a manner' but that's all it is, _acting_. Be genuine, be yourself." Then, she wagged a finger at Weiss. "Yang didn't get named our Queen by _acting_ ; she got it by _being_. And you, you're already her wife. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Considering their troubles- the miscommunications and misunderstandings- the question stung more than it had any right to, and she responded quickly. "It means I'm to make her life easier, not harder by offending some blasted old crone!"

"Ha! You think you _could_ offend me?" Grandmother gave a hearty chuckle. "You Atlesians, with your fragile pride." Shaking her head, she picked up her bowl again. "No, it _means_ that you speak with her voice. Your shoulders carry her troubles. Your hands can soothe away her worries. You two are one, tied together. You've heard the words but you don't understand them, not yet." She made a sweeping motion away from the farm. "When you leave this island- as Yang's so fond of running off to save the rest of the clans whenever she can, just like her sister, and I have a feeling you'll be the same way- these other clans, they haven't the good sense we do. Some of them might think they can bully you because you're Atlesian, because you're small, because you've not spent half your life learning your chosen art. If you walk around trying to be polite, they'll make Yang's life hell, and then where will we be?" A shake of her head. "So be mad- Yang is. She keeps it in check when she must, but there's so much about her life that keeps her anger burning. It's that fury, that Maiden's gift, that keeps the other clans in line. Now that you two are wed, you must share in that gift or we'll have more to worry about than you _upsetting_ someone. Let them be upset! Yang won't care and neither should you."

Weiss narrowed her eyes, sitting up a little straighter. "Have you been intentionally trying to get me angry so you could give me this lecture?"

"Of course!" The old woman frowned. "Wow, you really are blinder than me."

"So, since we've already established you're _just_ doing this to upset me, I think this conversation is over." Without even bothering with any of the other bowls, she finished off the rice and set the chopsticks across it, turning to head back into the barn.

"That's it? Just gonna get mad and storm off?"

"I'm hardly storming off; I'm getting back to work." Despite some part of her pointing out it _might_ be a bad idea, she allowed the words to roll of her tongue without a second thought. "Unless you plan on making my task easier, leave me alone."

With that, she grabbed the wheelbarrow and moved it into the next stall she had to clean, grabbing the shovel and getting to work. As much as her body protested further physical labor, her frustrations and anger fueling her. Dimly, she became aware that Grandmother had entered the barn but ignored the woman entirely, focusing solely on her task… until it came time to take the wheelbarrow back to the pile.

As she maneuvered it out of the stall, she became acutely aware of the light breeze blowing through the barn, and turned her head to find that the barn apparently had a back door, which Grandmother had pushed open.

"There. That should make your task easier." Grandmother tapped her staff against the wheelbarrow. "For the record, had you asked, I would've done that earlier."

"If that's the case, is there any chance you'd be willing to _help_ me?"

"Sure." The woman shuffled over, setting aside her staff as she found the shovel. "All you had to do was ask."

"Oh, really? Is _that_ all?"

"Yeah. That's all." Grandmother chuckled. "You honestly thought I expected you to do this whole barn by yourself?"

Although she felt _mighty_ tempted to snap off a rude comment, Weiss instead decided to push it to the side and focus on finishing the task at hand. She could be vexed about the whole ordeal to her heart's content later.

* * *

Seeing as she was only managing the wheelbarrow now, Weiss found herself with small breaks between unloading and the next load to rest her weary arms. It wasn't much but it afforded her the time to notice that Grandmother, despite her age, moved with a grace and power that she found herself envying. Each scoop of the shovel brought with it a considerable amount of muck and no motion seemed wasted. She didn't even appear to brace herself, seamlessly transitioning between actions.

Well, _asking_ had proven rather effective, so she opted to try and be a bit more cordial this time around. "How long would it take for me to learn how to shovel as well as you?"

"Hard to say. You're stubborn but smart; the way of the staff is a bit more rigid than I feel you'd be comfortable with."

"Wait, are you implying you learned how to move like this from your martial training?" Weiss raised a brow, though her expression was lost on the older woman.

"I'm not implying it; I'm saying it." Taking a brief break, Grandmother, stepped into the middle of the barn and twirled the shovel in one hand before launching into a series of movements- she couldn't even begin to describe them, all she could say for certain was that she definitely didn't want to be within striking distance. By the time the old woman came to a stop, Weiss was entirely speechless. "Mastery of the staff is essential to anyone who wishes to be a true warrior. But, it comes with other perks, too." Relaxing, she dug the tip of the shovel into the dirt lightly. "We are warriors first but every discipline has other applications. It's our way of life because there is no part of our lives our art doesn't touch."

With her demonstration and lecture over, she went back to the stall and continued shoveling.

"Would you be willing to teach me?" The words were out of her mouth before she could think better of it, though she quickly amended her request. "Yang and I have matters to attend to on the mainland but, after we return, could I become your student?"

"What use do you have for learning the staff?" Grandmother grunted, emptying another shovelful into the wheelbarrow. "You're learning the sword, aren't you?"

"Yang said that all Valens learn the five core disciplines." She moved the wheelbarrow slightly closer. "Sword and staff are only two."

"And what are the other three?"

"Bow, ax, and hand."

"Fist- but close enough." Grandmother paused to regard her for a moment. "You will not like the training, I'll warn you now. The way of the staff requires both rigidity and creativity in equal measure; it's not for the faint of heart."

"Let me show mine before you judge it unworthy," she replied, beginning to wheel the next load out and stopping only when the handle of the shovel poked her shoulder, prompting her to look at the woman.

"To be clear, I'm not implying you're unworthy; I'm merely offering a warning." The handle retreated. "The sword requires flexibility and intelligence. You're suited to it but the other disciplines will likely frustrate or bore you to tears. After enough students, the complaints become annoying, so I don't want to hear it from you, too."

The Atlesian remained silent for a moment. "The only way to find out is to try myself but I'll keep that in mind."

Grandmother chuffed, apparently amused by her answer. "Tai is the best ax master on Patch, even after his injury, and Yang's mastery over the way of the fist is beyond anything I've ever seen."

"You make a lot of blind jokes."

"Oh, just catching onto that?" The woman laughed. "You get used to it. I'm afraid you won't find a bow master here, though."

"I'm sure I'll have my hands full learning four of the five. The last will come in time."

"Indeed you will." The shovel handle lightly smacked her back, prompting her to move forward and dispose of the load. "Keep this up, you'll make a good Queen yet."

She couldn't be sure if the reference to her position boded well or ill and resolved to put it to the back of her mind for the moment. In all likelihood, it was just Grandmother trying to get another rise out of her, and she'd prefer to make the old woman work a bit harder before delivering her next lecture.

* * *

After they'd shoveled out the muck from all sixteen stalls, the wheelbarrow and shovel were set aside as Grandmother gestured towards the loft.

"We keep the bales up there. Spread it out in the stalls and stuff a bit into the corners- they'll do what they like with it once I lead them back in anyway. But!" She wagged a finger in Weiss' face. "Be careful not to spread too much! If you can't see the floor, then that's too much!"

"Duly noted," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "Any other tips I should know?"

Grandmother tilted her head. "Probably but, with a task as easy as this, you can find them out on your own."

Somehow, she couldn't feign surprise. "Thanks."

"You're welcome!" The old woman cheerily replied, reclaiming her staff and leaving the barn.

Weiss sighed, dropping her arms to her sides and turning towards the ladder leading up to the loft. Once she'd climbed it, she found a solid wall of neatly stacked rectangles of hay, tied off with some manner of string and stacked taller than her head. They sat about three feet away from the ledge of the loft, so it seemed like a simple manner of pulling a bale down and throwing it over the side of the ledge, then going down to cut it open and spread out the hay.

With only a little trepidation, she began carefully climbing the wall of hay, until she reached the top and began tugging on one of the bales. On the one hand, they were packed so tightly- and heavy besides- that she didn't need to worry about it toppling over but, on the other, dislodging a bale took her pouring all her strength and weight into it, to the point that once she finally unwedged one of the bales, she went flying. Luckily, she didn't roll off the ledge of the loft the way the hay bale did.

However, the sound of the bale crashing to the floor below made her wince just as much as her now sore shoulder and she cautiously peeked over the side on her hands and knees to find the string holding the bale together had snapped upon impact, sending hay sprawling everywhere.

Quietly, she muttered a curse.

Well… there went _that_ idea.

Casting her gaze around, she found a pulley mechanism bolted into a wooden beam overhead and followed the rope looped through it to… some manner of wooden platform with rope knots in each of the four corners. The other end of the beam seemed to be somehow affixed to the barn's center beam, though she couldn't quite workout what the contraption's purpose. Which made her think she was supposed to use it and Grandmother had, once again, opted to leave her in the dark rather than explain.

"That woman just might be the death of me." She muttered, pushing herself to her feet. A bit more carefully this time, she pulled down two more bales and set them on the platform, then climbed down to take the dispersed hay and put it into a few of the stalls. With that done, she followed the rope to a tie down nailed to one wall and unwound the rope, giving it a light tug, and only then did she realize the beam with the pulley could swivel. "Okay. I _think_ I've got it."

Gripping the rope with both hands, she yanked as hard as she could and… nothing happened.

To be more accurate, something _did_ happen- the swivel beam moved- but the platform on the loft didn't. Taking more of the slack, she tried again, putting all her effort into it, and hardly moved the platform at all, judging by the sounds of scraping from above.

If only she could reach a little higher, use her weight to make up for her lack of strength.

Reaching out, she tried to jump, but her hand slipped down the rope rather than catching a firm hold and she hissed when she pulled her hand away, the palm red and raw from the rope.

Frustration mounting, she looked at the rope again, determined to give it a second try as a cold resolve filled her. This time, when she reached up, something happened- a little white snowflake appeared where she intended to grab, encircling the rope.

Her brow furrowed as she tilted her head, glancing down at her hands before looking back to the snowflake. While she'd become steadily more aware of her semblance through her training with Yang, she'd yet to be able to consciously use it in any meaningful manner. Even the day before in the clearing constituted more of a happy accident than an intentional action on her part, just like earlier. But here, it seemed, the power that coursed through her was reacting to her vexation and offering another means of accomplishing her task.

Now, she just had to figure out how to actually _use_ her semblance, and she didn't have her wife's steady hand and calm voice to guide her.

Releasing the rope with her other hand, she settled into one of the forms Yang had shown her, curling both hands into fists. Much to her surprise, a second snowflake appeared around the rope, about as far from the first as her two hands were- a welcomed surprise, all things considered. Then, she began to move into other forms- not the sequential ones she'd learned, but rather whichever motion seemed like it would further her to her goal, and by some grace her semblance complied, pulling the rope taut and disappearing and reappearing when needed to lift the platform up while pulling on the rope. From there, she effectively _pushed_ the platform to where she wanted it to go, her family sigil appearing on one side of the platform and moving it, the swivel beam creaking lightly. Slowly, she lowered it down to the ground, abandoning the rope almost entirely to manipulate the platform itself, lowering her left hand with the palm facedown to set the platform lightly on the ground.

From there, she considered looking for something to cut the strings before trailing her fingertips along the hilt of her blade. If Valens used their warrior arts in their everyday lives, then it should be nothing to use a sword to cut a string. She took Myrtenaster into her hand and sliced at the bales, freeing the hay with ease and setting her sword at her hip once more. After that, it became a fairly straightforward task of moving the hay into the stalls. However, she still needed more.

Rather than climb up to the loft again, Weiss looked up at the ledge and bit her lip. Perhaps, if she tried hard enough, she could simply grab the bales themselves. She only needed four more to complete the task.

Closing her eyes, she found her center and visualized the bales up in the loft. The ice cold of her semblance flowed through her, touched every part of her, and she reached up to grab the hay in her mind's eye, then pulled them towards her. When she opened her eyes, she found the hay bales there, suspended in the air by snowflakes, and a smile curled her lips.

"You done being pleased with yourself?"

Startled by Grandmother's sudden reappearance, she lost her concentration on the bales, all four of them crashing to the ground and snapping their strings.

Weiss frowned, turning to stare at her. "You did that on purpose."

"Yep!" The old woman laughed, leading the oxen into the barn. "Now, toss that hay into the stalls. Don't mind the oxen; they'll rearrange when you're done." With a sigh, the Atlesian complied, though she muttered something under her breath in her mother tongue that brought the tip of the woman's staff around in a light strike. It quite nearly hit, but she threw up a hand- and, concurrently, a snowflake- to catch the chiding strike. "I might not speak your language but I can still hear tone, Stick."

"Something I'll keep in mind," she replied, gathering up an armful of hay without another word. Once she'd finished, stepping around the oxen and just _barely_ having enough hay for every stall, she started to leave the barn only to find a staff tossed her way, which she just hardly caught before it hit her square in the face. "What's this?"

"My students don't dictate when training begins," Grandmother said, flipping her own staff around and settling into a fighter's stance. "Now, defend yourself!"

Suddenly, Weiss found herself cursing her lack of foresight and began defending herself as best she could.

* * *

Author's Note: Before anyone asks, no, Grandmother isn't based on Maria; the majority of this chapter (and the overall plot) was written long before V6 was even on the drawing board. However, since both characters are based on Toph Beifong from _The Legend of Korra_ , there's definitely going to be some overlap. (I _am_ laughing my ass off, though, seeing as if Maria _was_ present in this version of Vale, she _would_ be a staff master, like Ruby, since scythes are derived from the staff discipline. So, either I called it like no one could've imagined or it was just bound to happen, take your pick.)


End file.
